


Anonymous

by velvetrose2020



Category: AU Star Wars - Fandom, Anonymous - Fandom, Antifa - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 2020 hellscape, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anonymous is a Top, BLM, Ben Solo is in the Resistance!, Ben Solo says ACAB, Ben still has some Kylo in him, Consensual Kink, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Hey- Poe's here!, I just want kassanovella to be proud of me, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Leia says BLM, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Look there’s no proof that Adam Driver ISN’T a senior member of Anonymous, Ooo they fucking, Oral Sex, Poe says FUCK ICE, Praise Kink, Reader is part of the resistance now I guess, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, SSDGM, Smut, Vibrators, adamdriver, anonymous, how dirty should I make this?, my first post pls be nice, wait is this a Star Wars AU?, woke boys love consent :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 100,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetrose2020/pseuds/velvetrose2020
Summary: Everyone has to have a hobby during quarantine, and flirting with Anonymous happens to be yours. How could you know where a few nudes in their DMs would lead?
Relationships: Anonymous/Reader, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/You, Ben Solo/ Reader, Ben Solo/Original Female Character(s), Ben Solo/Reader, Ben Solo/You
Comments: 46
Kudos: 117





	1. Honestly, Why Not?

**Author's Note:**

> Look there’s no proof that Adam Driver ISN’T a senior member of Anonymous.

End of May in 2020 is really a bitch. For the past 3 months you have been quarantined in San Francisco with your roommate James and his moody but regal cat Thomas -- pronounced to-MAS, you are frequently reminded. While you are both trying to make the most of it by making interesting meals, doing the occasional workout video, trying to master nail art and that night two weeks back when both you AND James dyed your hair wild colors-- some nights are just monotonous. Your summer associate position had been canceled due to the pandemic and you were coasting on unemployment and a stimulus check for the time being. James was back to work at the neighborhood coffee shop down the street, and any day now you were going to pull together the initiative to apply there as well. At the very least you’d have something to do for a few hours each week. 

As you were considering whether today would finally be that day, a text pops up from your friend Mels. It’s a link to Twitter-- figures. She was always sending you articles and commentary on news and politics. The link has a message: 

_OMG Anonymous is back._

_What?! Weird!_ You reply, then pull up the article. The renown international hacker collective had pulled together to scramble police communications and help the Black Lives Matter protesters and ALSO sent out new information about Jeffrey Epstein. 

_I can’t believe this! What else can 2020 throw at us?_

  
_Honestly anything. The gov released info on aliens and UFOs a few weeks back and no one even brings it up._

_RIGHT?! Our generation is so wild, look at this._

Mels send you another link-- apparently people had been sending Anonymous grateful nudes to their DMs and they were asking people to stop because they were being flooded. 

_LMAO what is WRONG with us… Although I’m really bored and I AM grateful…_

_You should support the movement._

_Honestly I might I’m SO BORED._

You were kidding but still opened the folder that kept some of your fav nudes shots. You hadn’t sent them to anyone lately having stopped talking to the guy you’d been seeing on and off 5 days before quarantine hit-- A DUMB IDEA IN HINDSIGHT, but how were you to know?! 

_Mels I think I’m going to do it._

_!!!!!!! OMG send a DIRTY one._

You laugh to yourself. Honestly, they are some of the most powerful hackers in the world. Who’s to say they didn’t have all your nudes already? 

_Ok I’m doing it_

_I can’t believe you. Although if one of them falls for you use your powers of influence FOR GOOD!_

_No, I’ll probably help them just burn it all down._

_Honestly that’s fine too._

_SENT!_

_OMG why do I feel like you just got yourself into trouble?_

*** 

  
You were just finishing an unsatisfying pantry dinner of peanut butter crackers, a banana and half a bag of pastel colored Easter M&Ms you had picked up 50% off after the holiday when you see a new notification on your phone. A DM from Twitter. _Oh shit_ , you think to yourself. Rapidly you open it and see a heart response on your nude-- someone from Anonymous had seen it! And LIKED it! _FUCK_. Then you start laughing hysterically and rush into the living room where James is watching Netflix. 

“JAMES. I-- it's crazy but me and Mels were reading up on Anonymous earlier today and she saw something where people were sending them nudes?! So then I sent them a nude? STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!! And someone from Anonymous LIKED IT IN MY DMs-- What do I do?!” 

“Bitch that is so much information-- slow down and start over.” Taking a deep breath, you try to explain yourself again, more slowly this time. Once he’s caught up he just starts to laugh at you. “You sent an international hacker organization a nude?! WELL SHIT TEXT BACK! What are you doing talking to me for?”

“FUCK what do I say?”

“I mean, it doesn’t matter it's just a joke online right?”

“Yeah I guess so…”

“Ask to see his!” He smiles at you. 

“GOD NO!” you gasp. 

“Ok, help me write something back though … “ you laugh. 

James hands you the vape he’d been hitting, you take a strong pull then together craft a response. It was flirty, dirty and a tad mysterious-- you hoped. When you hit send you both are giggling wildly. 

“OMG you’re going to get put on a watch list. They can’t know I live with you,” says James. 

“He’s ANONYMOUS he probably already KNOWS!” you exclaim. 

“WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN ME INTO?! I’m going to BED!” James jumps up to head to his room. 

“How are you going to bed right now, it's like 10pm?” 

“I have REAL MEN to text tonight actually…” he replies coyly then disappears into the hallway. 

_Well FAIR ENOUGH._ You take another drag from the vape, and curl into a comfy ball on the sofa. James had been watching a cooking reality show so you settle in and watch it play out, then roll into the next episode on autoplay. Thomas eyes you from the floor, considering whether you were worth the effort of pouncing on the sofa to cuddle with. 

_DING_ \-- your notifications. Glancing down-- it was from Twitter. Eagerly you open the app and head to your DMs. He had left a fire reaction on the message you had collaborated on with James. Your stomach fluttered a bit. Then another bubble popped up. 

“Be careful, now.”

_SHIT_. For a split second you considered running back to James to make him help you again. But where would the fun in that be? Feeling bold you respond on instinct. 

“Thank you for your service. Come and get me daddy.” 

He likes that too and writes back, “Ok. I warned you.” 


	2. Let's See Where this Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A handsome stranger walks into your neighborhood coffeeshop-- COINCIDENCE?!

The next morning you are DRAGGING. Your bizarre flirtation with Anonymous aside, the rest of social media and the world was on fire and you were feeling sad. Thankfully, Mels had spent the evening activating your friend group for the protest march that evening, including supplies, maps, tactics and strategies pulled from the resistance in Hong Kong. You weren’t all going to meet up for a few hours, however, and until then you were just feeling RESTLESS. James was working down at the coffee shop so you figured you may just stop by for a visit to have a properly made espresso drink. After months of your own attempts to spruce up basic drip from the coffee machine maybe you could treat yourself today. 

You pull on a simple knee length sundress, cinch your waist with an adorable belt you bought recently at an online sale and add a denim jacket. Wow-- this is almost a full look! You add your fav nude leather flats and even some mascara to give yourself a spark of life. Then your black cloth face mask from Etsy. Great. You are now ready for an OUTING. The walk to the coffee shop is pleasant and calming, and you luxuriate in the feeling of sunshine on your skin. As you approach the shop James spots you from the window and waves you over to the side counter. 

“Heyyyy!!! Are you coming to get caffeinated before our big act of civil disobedience tonight?” 

“Yes, exactly!” 

“Great. Although Danielle will have to take care of you I have to go do inventory in the back.” He gives you a look-- must have drawn the short straw there. 

“No problem, I may just hang out here for a bit for a change of scenery.”

“Cool. If not I’ll see you at home.” He gives you a wave then heads to the back. 

Just then a very tall, dark haired man enters the shop. He is wearing a tight fitting deep grey shirt that clings to his muscled torso with a lightweight black jacket pulled over it. Half of his dark shoulder length hair is pulled back into a mini bun. Awkwardly you both start to move to the same position in line. Looking up at him you catch his hazel green eyes and notice his thick dark lashes above his black cloth face mask and your stomach flutters. _Wow, maybe you hadn't been out in a while_. But when his large well shaped hands gesture at you with a motion indicating “No, go ahead,” and you look up again to thank him you think-- No, this wasn’t just a case of quarantine hormones. He was extraordinarily hot. 

“Thanks,” you smile at him, then realize you’re wearing a damn mask. How the fuck do you even flirt properly in this thing. You turn to face the cashier and he gets in line behind you, yet you still feel his presence heavily in your space. The sensation is so strong, a part of you wants to lean back slightly into his chest and feel his arm wrap around you-- 

“Hi! How can I help you today?”

“Oh hi! Sorry. I’d just like a large cappuccino with oat milk. Thanks.” you reply rapidly, caught off by whatever instinct had drawn you to the man behind you. Reaching into your bag you catch sight of his dark jeans, nice shoes and those hands again-- _SHIT_. 

“That will be $5.32” says the cashier pulling you out of your head again. 

“Right.” you pay with your card, then move down the bar to wait, lean against a bookcase, pull out your phone to avoid just openly staring at this man. 

You hear him order a large dark roast coffee-- simple, efficient-- but feel a pang of remorse that he won’t be waiting with you for an indefinite time period for a more complicated drink. As he tucks his wallet back into his jeans pocket, he turns just enough that your eyes meet and a tendril of dark hair falls slightly over his face-- startled but feeling bold once again, you hold his gaze for a beat before looking down at your phone. _FUCK_. He was so fucking hot and he had caught you staring. You feel a blush rise in your face. 

_Oh shit was he walking over to you now?!_ Your stomach starts fluttering as you see his feet approaching you while still scrolling through your phone and… he pivots to your right. You are standing just next to the milk and sugar counter. _OH_. You begin to relax, but you also feel a bit disappointed. 

“Y/N?!” calls the barista, pulling you again into the real world and out of your head. You move forward to collect your drink, say thank you to the barista. Looking over your shoulder again-- indifferently, you hope-- and see the tall man look your way as he stirs his drink. There is nothing casual or accidental in his eyes now-- he was watching you. Maybe he had been watching you this whole time. _OH_. 

What the fuck were you supposed to do now? Not sure how to respond, you walk out the front doors. Somehow when you hit the street you don’t even know where to walk. _TURN LEFT YOU LIVE TO THE LEFT--_ your mind thunders at you. As you pivot and make your way back to your building, you walk slowly, hoping he will catch up to you. But why would he do that? It was only when you were 3 blocks away that you remembered your plan to spend the afternoon IN the coffeeshop to avoid being at home. Damn why had he made you so flustered! When you make it to the front door of your building you look over your shoulder again and the street is empty. _Shame_. 

**

That evening you go to the Black Lives Matter protest downtown. It's well attended and peaceful, plus it made you feel like you were finally DOING something about all the horrors you had been reading about. Mels had come by earlier in the afternoon to keep you company and also make some elaborate signs. By 4pm your protest group had assembled and prepared for a full range of scenarios: changed into dark shapeless clothing, adorned yourselves with knee pads, gloves, backup chargers for your cell phones, downloaded the encrypted Signal app for communications, written important emergency numbers on your bodies in marker, filled travel sized bottles with anti-tear gas solution on key rings and hung from your belt loops, Kiana had even brought a protest tambourine to bang in hopes of sparing her voice but still making noise. It was great to see everyone again in person for the first time in a long time, even though you tried to mindfully social distance when you met on the rooftop. 

The protest was passionate and unifying, pretty standard for these kinds of events in SF. As you begin to walk back toward your neighborhood, however, Mels starts to see reports on IG live that there is a much more intense scene in Oakland. Every few minutes she gives an update to the group. 

“Wow OMG, looks like Anonymous is scrambling the police signals in Oakland now too!” 

“Are they really?” you ask. 

“Yeah! Oh Kiana, by the way Y/N just LOVES Anonymous.” 

James jumps in too, “Yeah she REALLY does. If they’re active in Oakland, the man of your dreams could be just over the bridge.”

Mockingly defensive you respond “Well he's a HACKER GENIUS so technically he could be anywhere”

James walking ahead of you all turns back to your group, “You know she had me help her try to fuck them right?”

“Wait what?!” exclaims Kiana. 

“Oh she didn't tell you?! After Mels got her all pumped up on social justice she sent Anonymous a nude and then asked ME to help her seal the deal!”

You are laughing at his synopsis but he's basically right, “Listen, it WORKED-- thanks! Oh wait, no I didn't fuck him -- them? Whatever. But he responded to our messaaaaage!” You sing. 

“WAIT WHAT? You have -- interacted-- with Anonymous?!” Mel’s asks, a hint of concern in her voice. 

“Well… I mean, just as a joke.”

“What did they say?” Kiana asks, concern was definitely the primary emotion in her voice. At her tone a whisper of fear begins to creep into your stomach. 

“Well, I -- I had been flirting and he just responded to the flirting. I mean, it's just fun right? We’re all under quarantine, who even knows where they are.”

Kiana gives you a serious stare. “I don't think you should take this any further. They are-- kind of a wild card. And you don’t know what they have the capacity to do.”

“Ok guys, you’re scaring me. Let's drop it, I won't reach out again, OK?”

“Mels! Buy me a burrito!” James calls suddenly, he was half a block ahead of you all now and obviously in a different headspace. “You owe me from the last time we saw each other in person.”

Mels hurries to catch up to James and Kiana follows, casting you a final warning look over her shoulder as she moves to the taqueria sidewalk counter. “I owe you a burrito from FEBRUARY?!” you hear Mels exclaim.

As you listen to your friends negotiate dinner you hang a step back. _Fuck_. Maybe you DID have to be more careful. 

You hadn’t mentioned to Mels that it was Anonymous that had suggested your group switch to Signal for communications at the march today, and that Signal was the app you were using to talk to him now. You also didn’t mention that you had been updating Anonymous on the protest in SF while you were marching. Or that he had told you that the protest was getting much more intense in Oakland. You certainly didn't tell them that you had already known Anonymous was going to do _\-- something--_ to help the protesters in the east bay evade police retaliation; that Mels' update was merely a confirmation on what they decided to go with. 

It was possible he was flirting with you and this is just what conversations were like in the 2020 hellscape you were living in. It was also possible he was just using you as a source to provide on-the-ground intel. And honestly, that was OK. But you hadn’t really considered that it could be a threat to YOU in any way. What did you even have to offer? 

By the time your burrito arrived you pushed these questions out of your mind. You ate with your friends in Dolores Park, taking off your shoes just to feel the grass on your feet. For a few minutes at the end of the day-- and before the city curfew hit -- things actually felt normal for the first time in a long time, and you allowed yourself a moment to feel good.


	3. No Such Thing as Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it a bad decision if you REALLY want to do it?

Two days after the protest you finally had a burst of motivation-- today was the day you were going to finally apply for the coffeeshop job. You are sitting in the back corner with James filling out the application while he gives you all the staff gossip when the tall dark haired man strides in. He dominates the room as he walks to the counter with a long confident stride. He orders a large dark roast coffee and also a breakfast sandwich this time. You notice that the girl at the counter-- Danielle, James had told you -- was also a bit taken aback by his presence. For just a basic exchange at the register there seemed to be a lot of fluttering laughter and-- did she just toss her hair? Involuntarily you roll your eyes and turn back to the form. 

Dining inside the shop is still closed as a public health measure, and you watch from under lowered lashes as the mystery man takes his coffee and meal to the small pocket park just outside. He sits on a bench directly in your line of sight, over Jame’s right shoulder. You watch as he removes his mask to drink his coffee and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His face is all strong cheekbones and sharp lines with a scatter of freckles. His lips are surprisingly full and immediately you wonder what they would feel like pressed against your… 

“This is so exciting!” James exclaims, grabbing your wrist and pulling your attention back. “I can’t believe you’ll be working here too. Lex is the manager, he’s fine but REALLY INTO everything starting on time, so don’t be late.” he rattles on and you listen and nod. 

Over his shoulder, the mystery man eats his breakfast, looks down at his phone, greets an excited bouncy dog that rushes to him while out for a walk — my God he’s nice to animals too? You need to focus and stop staring. 

“Ok great I can do that. Thanks for putting in the recommendation. When do I meet with Lex?”

“Like 5 mins, it’ll be a breeze he’ll love you. Wait here.” James dashes behind the counter to help with a large order that came through online. 

You sit at the table waiting for Lex, trying not to be so conspicuous about checking this guy out. Mystery man finishes his sandwich and stands up to leave still holding the coffee. He turns slightly and looks directly into your eyes. Even though you’re startled you don’t turn away; butterflies be damned you were going to hold his attention. He smirks at you-- _OH_! And then gives you a bit of a wave as he walks over to compost his trash. You give a half wave back, grateful that you are wearing a mask for once because your face is flushed under his direct attention and you can’t help but bite your lower lip. 

“Y/N?” A voice calls you. 

You jump a bit and turn to face Lex— it was time for your interview. Thirty minutes later you had sealed the deal and your training shift would be on Monday. Excellent! You got the job and everyone seems pleasant enough at the shop. Plus in addition to some much needed income, you had a new goal-- the next time you saw the tall mystery man come in you would speak to him. 

Just then your phone buzzes-- notification from Signal. It could only be one person since your friends only used that app when out protesting but you ignored it. Kiana’s warning echoed in your head. They were probably right, you didn’t really know what you were getting into. 

To celebrate your new job you had promised James you’d put together some craft cocktails tonight. After three days of back to back marches your voice was a bit hoarse and you had been planning a self care night at home-- the fight was a marathon not a sprint. Plus Mels was waiting on a shipment of plywood so you could upgrade your signage to work double duty against rubber bullets if necessary. 

In the back of your mind, you worried that after a few drinks some messy texting was almost guaranteed. Walking into your bodega you push the worry away-- you were trying to be responsible on so many fronts these days, why not just take it one hour at a time. 

***

As predicted, by that night you and James are both pretty drunk from your “new job” celebratory drinks. The night had started with a large pitcher of aperol spritz’s and then escalated to strawberry-mint margaritas on your building rooftop. For a few moments, as you watched the sunset over the city, it almost felt like a normal summer or a night out at a real bar-- a welcome reprieve among the world’s madness. 

Back in your apartment, you curl into a corner of the sofa, scrolling through twitter, finally feeling financially stable enough to donate to some of the bail funds for other protestors. When you see a retweet of a post from Anonymous you remember that you had a message waiting for you. Before you click on it James reappears in the living room. 

“Hey lady, wish me luck. I’m going to finally meet Marco… We’ve been chatting for like 6 weeks, he’s been working from home this entire time and he doesn’t even have a roommate to keep him company so I’m expecting him to just ravish me.” 

“AND he’s been properly keeping quarantine, which is important! GOD you’re so lucky. Have fun, be safe!”

“I WILL!” he calls as he heads out. 

You were happy for him. Then turn back to your phone and open your messages on Signal. 

_Hey. How are you doing today?_

Oh, that was nice. You suddenly feel a bit bad for ignoring it all day. 

_I’m doing well. Got a new job today! I’ve been celebrating with my roommate._

Within a minute he writes back. 

_Congratulations! That’s good to hear._

That’s all he says, and while this convo was sweet, it was also kind of boring so you start to switch over to another app when he writes: 

_Could you send me another pic pls? Doesn't have to be a nude, I just want to see your face._

Hmm. Cute. As you consider whether its worth putting on lipstick and sending him something live or pulling from your photos you stop yourself. 

_No, let me see YOUR face how about that?_

_You’ve seen me._

Your stomach drops. 

_When?_

You wait for him to respond barely daring to breathe. 

_You know when._

A tight ball forms in your stomach. It **couldn’t be** the guy from the coffee shop…. 

_Did I see you earlier today…?_

You ask half hopeful but half scared. You stare at the screen, heart beating in your throat, waiting for him to write back. Maybe he wouldn’t, and maybe that’s a good thing. It suddenly sinks in that you had spent a week flirting with a man you didn’t know, who had your nudes, who could hack police departments and God knows what else— and he’d already seen you?! If he wanted to, finding out where you live would probably be the easiest part of his fucking day… Your thoughts start to spiral and real fear begins coursing through your body. 

Why didn’t you listen to Kiana? Or Mels? Because you were bored as hell and this was kind of exciting that’s why. He still hasn’t responded. James was out with his quarantine bae. You had been excited for him to finally get out of the house but now you were scared to be alone. If you called him now, he’d come back, but you also didn’t want to ruin his night. Especially if it turned out to be nothing. _Shit_.

Sensing your rising anxiety, Thomas takes pity on you and takes the moment to jump into your lap and grace you with a close cozy snuggle. He even allows you to pet him and purrs loudly, the vibration of his body soothing your nerves. 

OK, maybe you just ghost this chat how about that? That’s probably the safest. Maybe you should come clean to Mels, she may have a solution. Or at least a better idea of how much shit you’d just gotten yourself into. 

_DING_. Notification icon from Signal. Still stroking Thomas you open to the message, your fingers trembling slightly.

_Do you want to see me now?_

Fuck. That was a bad idea probably. 

_Yes._

Suddenly there’s a firm knock on your door.


	4. A Knock in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I WONDER WHO IT COULD BE?!

The knock cuts through the silence of your apartment like a clap of thunder. 

It is possible that no one had knocked on your apartment door EVER. Your building had a secure lobby with a buzzer system downstairs that linked to your phone, so even pre-quarantine when people would be stopping by no one had actually KNOCKED. It was obviously him. Anonymous. At your fucking door. Finding your home address had probably taken him under five minutes. Getting past a 1950s buzzer system probably took him 30 seconds or less. _SHIT_. 

You stand up, Thomas making an irritated noise as he falls off your lap from the sudden movement and slides into the sofa cushions. You were wearing basic black joggers from Uniqlo and a white tank, not even a bra. As you walk to the door you pull your hair out of the messy bun you’d had it in all day and run your fingers through it— hopefully it is falling into some kind of nice waves. You step forward on your bare feet and slowly open the door. 

It’s him. The mystery man from the coffee shop is now towering over you on your freaking doorstep. This close up you realize he must be at least 6’6. He’s muscularly built, again wearing dark denim jeans, and a grey tee shirt but had switched it up tonight with a black zip up hoodie. His hair isn’t pulled back, so it falls to his shoulders with a slight curl at the ends. His hazel eyes look down into yours, intense as always, making your insides throb involuntarily. You notice a chain around his neck and the way it falls into the curve of his collarbone triggers an intense urge inside of you to trail your fingertips along it, under it… 

Realizing you hadn’t said anything you gasp, “Hi.”

“Hey.” He says in a deep voice that somehow had a bit of a melodic tone. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, come in.” You move back and he walks into your space with long strides, placing a carryout bag on your marble top kitchen island. 

“I brought you dinner. It’s dim sum, from that place you like. It’s, uh, your last order from there.” 

“Oh! Thank you.” You don’t really know how to feel about that. It was very sweet, but he had also just admitted to casually hacking your UberEats account… ?

“What's your name?” you ask sharply. More mad at yourself than at him-- how the fuck was he in your house and you didn’t even know his real name? Would he even tell you? 

“Ben.” He leaned forward toward you against the long edge of your kitchen island, you were doing the same at the short end, not fully sure what to do. This all felt very wrong. You would be lying if you said your heart wasn’t racing-- but was it fear or excitement?

“Well, I’m Y/N-- although you obviously know that.” 

He smiles at you then, and your stomach gets fluttery. 

“And you’re obviously with Anonymous?”

“Yes.” He nods, smirking at you. 

“And that’s how you found my home address...?”

“Yes,” he says, standing upright and walking closer to your edge of the counter. He trails a knuckle down your bare arm and a shiver goes through your entire body, nipples starting to peak at just this light touch. 

His voice drops to a raspy whisper, “And the coffeeshop. And the most ordered meal from your UberEast account.”

He takes another step so he can stand directly in front of you, assessing you with fire in his eyes. “It’s also how I know James isn’t home tonight.”

“Fuck…” you gasp. 

“You told me to come and get you,” he smiles as he leans forward and tucks a tendril of your hair behind your ear. Closing your eyes and suppressing a full on moan, you turn your head into his hand to feel his long fingers brush up against your lips. He stills and holds his hand in place just long enough for you to open your mouth and bite the flesh of his hand just under his thumb, eliciting a sound from his chest that nearly sounds like a growl.

He moves to cup your face in his palm and traces a slow circle over your lower lip as you look up into his eyes, barely able to breathe. He then presses the pad of his thumb against your lips. As you open your mouth he slides his thumb inside, pressing down slightly on your tongue. When you feel him tighten his grip on your head near the nape of your neck you close your lips and begin to suck slowly. 

“Fuck…” he says in a low tone. He withdraws his hand to look down at you with heat and curiosity, almost as if he was making a game plan. 

“Well you certainly found me,” you manage to say softly. The full length of his body was pressed so close that you could smell his cologne -- something woodsy, with a bit of spice-- that made you want to bury your face into his neck. 

“I know you didn't exactly invite me tonight. Do you want me to leave?” He asks softly. 

How dare he have the audacity to ask you that, so close that you could feel his breath against your ear. 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with any of this. You can keep the food…”

He starts to pull back, but your brain screams _ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT._ Without thinking you reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him roughly back to you. The next second you feel his full lips finally press against your aching mouth and you let out an involuntary moan. 

You have been so touch starved after months of isolation that his lips against yours feels like the end of a drought. You open your mouth to welcome his tongue and pull him even closer to you by the nape of his neck, fingers toying with the soft tendrils of his dark hair. He groans softly from deep in his throat and reaches down to grab the backs of your thighs to lift you up onto the kitchen island in one smooth swift motion never breaking your desperate kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist automatically, without a thought, just as he pulls you closer to him with a sharp thrust of his hips-- a preview, that makes you instantly wet. Rolling your hips forward to grind into him again you feel his hard length through his jeans-- _SHIT_. He was large. From his height and hands you shouldn't have been surprised, but still. The confirmation made your pussy throb with need. 

As much as you want to make this whole experience last-- to draw out the foreplay (what else could these lips do?!), to take the time to explore his body and have him do the same for you-- you needed him inside of you **_RIGHT NOW_**. 

“Are you going to fuck me, Ben?” you ask in a breathless whisper, pressing your lips into his neck and collarbone as he shrugs off his hoodie.

“Yes,” he pants, leaning back to pull off his shirt next. His torso was entirely lean, hard muscle and his biceps, back and shoulders seemed to ripple with every move he made. _My God_ , your brain thunders watching him. 

Stepping back between your legs he threads a hand into your hair and you begin to make a sound almost like a purr, when he tightens his grip pulling at the roots of your hair arching your head up to him. 

“Ah—!” You cry softly. 

“You should really be more careful about who you send your nudes to, you know.” He traces a thumb over your stiff nipple protruding lewdly through your thin tank top. 

“Mmhmm..” you manage to gasp. 

“I liked it,” he says glaring down at you. “But don’t do something like that again. It’s not safe.” He tightens his grip on your hair even more, and leans down millimeters from your lips. 

“Ah—! Yes. I hear you. I won’t.” You’re trembling slightly, unsure of what his next move will be. He is examining your face, seemingly studying you for signs of sincerity. 

“Say ‘Yes, Sir’ if you understand.”

_Fuck_. “Yes- yes, sir.” You manage to whisper. 

“Mmhmm. Come on then, eager girl,” he rasps onto your lips, pulling you tightly into his bare chest before lifting you up from under your thighs again and carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom, knowing exactly where to go. A small part of your brain is concerned about how he knew the layout of your apartment, but the rest of your mind tells it to shut the fuck up as you continue to kiss him deeply, returning your hands to his hair, tracing fingertips over the hot muscles of his upper back and shoulders. 

Once in your room, he climbs onto the bed in a kneel still holding your body against his torso, one forearm along your spine, hands holding the back of your head, the other wrapped around your waist with a large palm gripping your ass. Holding you like this he lays you down on your back, finally breaking the kiss and allowing you a second to breathe before you feel his mouth descend on your nipple over your top, making you arch up into his body. He makes a sound almost like a soft laugh at your response, then takes the stiffened peak firmly between his teeth. 

“Oh GOD, Ben…” you call in spite of yourself. HOW was he making you say his name already? You were still wearing all of your goddamn clothes?! 

Suddenly you feel his fingers around your throat -- not hard, but just enough. When you open your eyes he is looking down at you. From the shift into this position you can feel his thick length pressed firmly into your inner thigh and your entire body practically pulses with need.

“When we’re in bed, you call me Sir. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” you say, almost dizzy by this point. 

“Good girl,” he growls into the curve of your neck, biting into the tender skin there hard enough to leave a mark. 

You hear his shoes hit the floor as he kicks them off, then feel both of his hands tuck into the waistband of your joggers and pull them down roughly to your knees, another tug pulls them off your ankles, and they too disappear onto the floor. His mouth moves to take your other nipple between his teeth and you wrap one newly exposed leg around his body, the ball of your foot moving up and down along his calf. 

“Take this off…” he murmurs, pulling your top over your head with one hand then immediately returning his mouth to your breasts, leaving bites and kisses in his wake. His other hand was sliding up, down and between your thighs, finally landing on your most needy spot over your simple black cotton panties. Instantly you arch up into his hand prompting another smile from him as he works a mark with his teeth just to the side of your nipple. His eyes flip up to watch you as he begins to move two of his fingers firmly in a slow circle. 

“You’re so wet already,” he murmurs, his words making you clench even more. 

“Mmhmm,” you murmur and nod.

He slides a finger under your panties to trace up and down your slick folds as your arch toward him again-- seeking more. Keeping his eyes on you, he traces a fingertip around your entrance then slides two fingers inside, curving up. 

You gasp and begin to pant slightly. Your brain could barely comprehend that ANONYMOUS was the hot guy from the coffeeshop and right now he was finger fucking you into oblivion. Additionally, from the look of determination in his eyes he was not going to stop until he made you come. 

“Ohhh….” you moan. 

“This is what you want, don’t you little girl?” he breathes into your ear as you clench wildly against his fingers, building to climax already, rolling your hips to match his quickening rhythm. “You want to come for Anonymous?”

You nod rapidly, feeling your inner thigh begin to tremble. 

“You come when I say so and not before,” he leans up onto his knees, continuing to slide his fingers in and out of you at a firm and steady pace. “I’m warning you, now.”

Using his free hand he begins to undo his belt, the sound of the buckle coming undone was enough to make you drag your teeth across your lower lip. He shifts his jeans and boxer briefs down until his giant cock is revealed. He was at least nine inches and it seemed heavy with girth in his hand as he begins to stroke himself slowly, watching your face with unfiltered lust. Your need to feel him inside of you was growing even as you felt yourself creeping close to your peak. He leans down to your ear again and when he speaks the whisper of his breath sends additional shivers through your body. 

“I’m about to make you come. And I want to hear you.” 

At that moment he moves his thumb under the seam of your panties and adds pressure to your desperate clit. On contact you cry out and your body arches, the pleasure so intense when he starts to move his thumb in rhythm you reach out with both hands to grip his forearm. 

“That’s it… you’re almost there I can feel you clenching… Come for me. I want you dripping on the sheets when I put my cock inside you.” 

“Fuuuuuuuuck, sir…!” You call out suddenly as a tidal wave of pleasure courses through you. You are bucking wildly on his fingers, one of your hands still gripping his forearm the other lost is his hair as he leans down to place his forehead on yours, needing to watch the pleasure explode across your face. 

“Scream if you need to…” he pants. You needed to; so you did. His pace didn't slow until you dug your fingernails into his shoulder blades and finally-- after trembling twice-- push his hand away from you. 

You lie on your bed gasping, nearly close to tears from the combined experience of the night's events. As the fireworks begin to fade from your vision you notice that he has left the bed to stand and fully remove his pants and underwear, leaving them atop the growing clothes pile on the hardwood floor. 

Turning your head to the side, you look at him through narrowed lashes. He stands in the moonlight from your window completely nude, dark hair grazing broad shoulders, erect member practically staring back at you at eye level. 

“Pull those panties off, girl. You’re ready for me now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love my Kylo-fic, I had to go with Ben here because ANONYMOUS IS A RESISTANCE FIGHTER OBVIOUSLY. 
> 
> Also, woke boys love consent :)


	5. A Knock in the Night pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would YOU do to support the Resistance?

You feel frozen in time and space. Had he really just said that to you?! You blink rapidly just trying to process his words. As your mind struggles to catch up to the current reality he walks to the foot end of the bed, eyes cast down watching your half-sated body. 

“Come on,” he taps your ankle gently. “I want to see you now like you were in that nude you sent me.”

_OHHH…._ On Mels’ advice you **had** actually sent him the dirtiest photo on your phone. It was from a night in February when you had gone out with Kiana and her wild freshman year roommate. There had been a lot of drinking, a lot of dancing and a lot of flirting with guys in the club but you had come home alone feeling restless and a bit wild. As you were getting undressed for bed, you had decided to have your own little private after party. In hindsight, it was strange that you hadn’t even sent the shots to the guy you were halfheartedly seeing, but had immediately sent one to Anonymous. 

His eyes still watching your every move, you loop your thumbs under the seam of your panties and begin to slide them down. When you get them to your calves he reaches forward and pulls them off himself with a sharp quick gesture then throws them to the side. Turning back to you, he returns a hand to your thigh beginning to stroke up and down, looking at you laid out on the bed completely naked and still luxuriating in an afterglow. 

“You need to get on your knees, don’t you?” he asks, dark hair spilling over his eyes. 

“Yes, sir,” you reply. 

You sit up to face him, then pivot onto your hands and knees. Flipping your eyes up to meet his hungry stare, you linger for a beat creating a moment of charged suspense, before you spread your knees, stretch your arms in front of you and slowly slide your chest into the mattress creating a dramatic arch in your back that showcases the curves of your elevated ass. You turn your head to the left, letting your hair cascade around you, hiding your face. 

“Goddamn…” he murmurs, petting your hair with long strokes as you hold the position. As satisfied as you felt mere moments ago, desire now flooded you again. “Stay just like that.” 

A shift in the mattress tells you that he had climbed back onto the bed, Then you feel him slide the palm of his hand up your spine until he reaches your plush ass and digs his fingers into it. 

“Mmm… daddy…” you moan at him. 

“Hmm, you like that?” he asks, as he reaches up to grip into a cheek with each hand. 

“Yes, daddy…” 

“Hmm of course you do.” he releases his grip then you feel him shift again, your head still pressed into the sheets holding the pose. He seems to be kneeling behind you, which is confirmed when you feel a quick open palm slap on your right cheek so suddenly it makes you jump. 

“Ooo it's ok beautiful,” he says, now rubbing it tenderly. “I just wanted to hear it.” 

He presses his lips into the spot for good measure and you feel yourself growing wet for him all over again. His face so close to your throbbing core suddenly creates a new set of needs. The feeling must have been mutual, because his next move is to sink his entire face into your pussy and start to lick over your folds with absolute abandon. When the tip of his tongue begins to circle your clit you start to tremble and when he wraps his mouth around it you begin to cry out, the sound muffled by your face already pressed into the bed. 

Turning so you can speak you whimper, “You’re going to make me come again, Sir…” 

In response, he presses one large hand into the base of your spine, slides it gradually down your back and then taps you twice on the shoulder, seemingly giving you non-verbal permission to come, since his mouth was rather busy. It was all you needed to completely break-- trembling, gasping, pleasure past the point of even screaming-- you had never felt anything like this in your life. He licks and sucks on your most tender places until your full body trembles subside and your knees begin to weaken in your pose. 

With an almost casual motion, he nudges your hips with his hand and your nearly-limp body tips over onto your back. Looking up at him with something close to reverence at this point, you watch as he traces his tongue over his lips savoring the flavor, then wipes your excess slick off his face with his palm before leaning down over you. 

“Are you ready to feel this cock inside you, baby?” he asks. You nod, still too wrapped up in bliss to form words. 

You can feel the head of his penis at your entrance-- to his credit, you were now dripping into the sheets. He toyed with you, using the head of his dick to rub and tantalize your clit generating new shivers all the way through you. Finally, he hitched one of your knees under his elbow then places your ankle on his shoulder as he begins to press himself into your core. 

“Can you take all of me inside of you?” he rasps into your ear. 

You actually weren’t sure, but you were damn sure going to regardless-- it was the least you could do to support a leader of the movement. 

“Yes, Sir…” you manage to gasp. 

He thrust his length inside with a long slow stroke, and just when you think you have taken him all he grips your hips and with a sharp thrust gives you the final few inches. At that moment of connection you both call out for the other with a tone of amazement, staring into each other's eyes and gasping. He starts slowly as you adjust to his size, your walls stretching to even fit his thickness. You feel so incredibly full of him and he feels SO GOOD that every breath you take turns into a moan. He begins pumping into you faster and rhythmically, but always thrusting fully to the hilt. You grip the back of his neck, weaving fingertips through his waves, your other hand gripping his back, arms, shoulders, anything you can to hang on to this absolute machine of a man as he moves inside of you,

“I can’t believe you feel like this,” he pants. He bites your earlobe, pulling it downward with his teeth. “You’re so fucking tight. You’re taking my entire cock. And you're starting to tremble already. Are you going to come on my dick? I think you might… fuck…” 

Motivated by that thought, he starts to move in you even faster and you grind your hips to match his rapid strokes. 

“Y/N…” he groans, as he shifts to drop your ankle from his shoulder and then wraps both of your legs around his muscled torso. He reaches into your hair with both hands gripping at the roots and guides your head up to meet his voracious lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you passionately, romantically, even-- but fucks into you like a wildman. 

“I need you to come one more time. Can you do that for me?” 

You had been nearly there before his request so in response you simply nod. 

“Do you want to rub your own clit or should I?” 

His dirty mouth was going to **END YOU.**

“Please do it for me, daddy,” you manage to say. He smiles down at you wickedly, then reaches between your bodies to add the pressure you craved. 

A tsunami of pleasure wracks your body and you feel your pussy clench and tremble around him. He closes his eyes-- also nearly at climax-- and moments later when you finally reach your peak you lose all sense of control. You come so hard tears spill over your lashes as you arch into him, clinging to his body, your face pressed into the hollow of his neck. 

“Yes-- _shit_ , that’s it... GOD!” he groans as he finishes inside of you. You feel him spill into the deepest parts of your body, and when his movements stop he rests on his elbows to avoid crushing you, but doesn’t withdraw. Your eyes are closed as you float back to earth, but you feel him trace a thumb across your cheekbone to wipe away your spilled tears. 

“Mmm… Look at this Resistance fighter. Doing anything for the cause.”

Even through the fog of orgasm you can’t resist adding on, “Everyone has a role to play…”

He laughs softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

_WHATEVER YOU WANT,_ your brain thunders, But you keep quiet. There was no need for him to know all of that yet. 

He pulls out of you with a sound of reluctance and leaves the bed; returns with a damp towel to clean you both up; then props up on his side leaning over you and tracing the back of his knuckle along your arm as your mind floats somewhere between heaven and reality. 

“You know I really came over tonight just to drop off dinner. I wasn’t sure you would even let me in the door.” 

“Stop being so hot, then.” you reply. You smile as you watch him actually blush. 

“Speaking of, are you hungry?” you ask. He nods. You lean up to kiss those lips again then slowly stand up-- find your balance-- and grab your silky kimono-style robe from the hook behind your bedroom door and wrap it around you. 

Returning to your living room, you notice his discarded hoodie and tshirt on the floor just inside the doorway and smile to yourself. Wow, you guys didn’t even make it to the sofa. Rather than just eat from the carryout containers the way James and you would normally, you reach for your nice serving platter and begin to plate the dumplings into a pretty arrangement. When you are just finishing, he reappears in the doorway wearing only his boxer briefs-- still gorgeous. 

You eat standing together at the kitchen island. Initially discussing how this meal became your local favorite, and how since the restaurant restrictions you and James had been committed to ordering from them whenever you felt you could spend the money to help them stay afloat. 

You were brimming with questions for him, but since he was with Anonymous how much was appropriate to ask? How much were you allowed to know? In any case, you were not going to push the issue now because you refused to jeopardize anything with a man that looked like this and could make you come four times in just over an hour. You try to keep the conversation going on topics that seem safe. 

When dinner is finished he follows you to bed. You hadn’t expected him to stay the night but you were grateful when he climbed into bed behind you and pulled you close. As you were falling asleep, you considered that maybe the past few months had been isolating for him as well, and he wanted to feel you pressed against him as much as you did. You fell asleep in an instant and slept deeply through the night. 

Cutting through the fog of a dream, you awaken the next morning to the incessant buzz of your phone. Shifting to reach it, you become conscious of the arm draped around your middle -- _OH SHIT_! Your brain flashes back to every event of the night before in rapid succession like a highlight reel. If Anonymous/Ben hadn’t still been in your bed you might have accused James of adding a hallucinogen to one of your craft cocktails. Smiling to yourself you check your screen, they’re all from James: 

_BITCH WHOSE FUCKING CLOTHES ARE IN OUR HOUSE?_

_I just walked in and I thought we’d been ROBBED!!!!!_

_I KNOW you don’t have a man in here_

_LMAO THIS IS LIKE HALF A LOOK-- WHERE ARE HIS PAAAANTS?!_

_WAIT did you order from Dragon Beaux last night?! I didn’t see leftovers in the fridge._

_WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ONNNNNNN_

You turn your phone to airplane mode, return it to the side table and snuggle back into the arms of the strong man behind you. The world could wait-- for at least another hour or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous just wants to make you come and feed you dumplings :) 


	6. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader feels like she deserves some answers.

You feel a hand stroking your head in the moments before you fully wake. Then you hear a deep melodic voice call your name. Blinking your eyes open, you see Anonymous -- or Ben -- kneeling by the side of the bed bare chested but half dressed in his jeans. 

“Good Morning,” you murmur to him, then reach to kiss his lips slowly, indulging yourself. He leans into you returning the kiss, then nibbling your lower lip extending the moment. 

“You don’t want me to leave.” He says it as a statement rather than a question, and smiles. 

You feel a bit caught out. You really didn’t want him to leave and had absolutely nothing better to do today; but you’d already fucked him on sight the night before so you didn’t want to come off as TOO eager.

“Well… “ you say, leaving it open ended. At this angle in the morning light, his hazel eyes look more green. You notice four thin red lines on his shoulder and a darkening spot on his neck near his collarbone, marks left from your nails and teeth. Seeing further evidence that last night was not only in your imagination you are hit by a rush of possessive pride. 

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Very thoughtful,” you reply. He still seemed unsure of what you wanted him to do. Fine, you’d just tell him. You were a big girl, you could handle a ‘no’. “Take a shower with me?” 

“Well alright. How could I say no to that?” he says with a grin. 

You move the covers back and walk quickly to your bathroom, somehow a bit shy walking past him fully nude in the daylight. You rush to turn on the hot water, hoping a quick buildup of steam will provide a bit of cover and calm your suddenly jittery nerves. He walks in as you finish brushing your teeth, fully nude now and completely unbothered, heading straight under the showerhead. 

“Jesus! How hot is this water?!” he exclaims, turning it down significantly. 

“I like hot showers!” you call out in mock outrage joining him, turning the heat back up a tad-- a concession. It had been a while since you had showered with a man. 

The water rushes over his body in rivulets, his chiseled body creating hot waterfalls and his wet hair clinging to his rigid jawline. You were not sure if you could ever get used to him just casually being this gorgeous around you all the goddamn time. He pulls you into his body, the water raining on you both now. Playfully, you pour shower gel onto his chest and yours so you can clean yourselves and each other. 

Turning your back to him to rinse off the remaining soap suds, you feel his hands grab onto your hips and lead you forward into the tile shower wall, the right side of your face presses against the warm ceramic. 

“Now that you’re clean I just want to make you messy again….” he says into your ear, stepping forward to push the full length of his body against your back and ass. He reaches around to slide a hand between your legs instantly beginning to add pressure to your clit making you shiver despite the heat. His other hand wraps around your throat and pulls your head back to kiss your mouth messily, beads of water dripping from his wet hair onto your face, a few hot drops landing on your tongue. You can feel his erect length behind you, beginning to grind into your body. When you let out a gasp, he moves his fingers quicker sending more intense tendrils of pleasure through your body. 

“Be a good girl and spread your legs for me,” he whispers into the curve of your ear generating a shiver. You comply, then feel two of his long fingers slide into your slick core. You moan and involuntarily arch, but he has you pinned flat against the tile and at your movement pushes you firmly back against the wall while tightening his hold on your neck.

“No, no, stay there…. Just take it. Stay still. And try to be quiet, I think your roommate is home.” 

His words make your pussy clench down on his fingers and flood your core with slick, adding to the fire creeping inside of you. 

His lips descend on yours again and his hand moves from your throat to your breast, stroking your hardened nipples then teasing, and finally pinching until you cry out from the mixture of pleasure and pain, nearly at climax. 

“Oh God! Ben-- or, Sir! I’m… so close…” 

“Hmm. I don’t think you should come yet,” he says decisively, and pulls his hand away from you. 

“What?!” you turn to him in protest but he presses your cheek flat against the wall with the hand that was just inside of you. Shocked you freeze waiting for whatever he will do next. A moment later he presses his fingers against your lips. 

“Open.” It was a command. You part your lips and he slides both fingers into your mouth. They taste like sex. You had never been handled like this before and while there was a part of you that felt defiant, the pull of submission was thrilling. You suck on his fingers like he wanted, eliciting a groan from him. 

At that, he roughly wraps his other arm around your waist and jerks your hips back to him. Startled, you raise your forearms to the wall bracing yourself as you feel him prepare to enter you, the hard tip of his cock stroking your dripping pussy and teasing your entrance. 

“I’m going to fuck you hard, now. But you have to keep quiet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you try to reply over his fingers, although it comes out as muffled nonsense.

He smirks at you. “Good enough.” Then thrusts his full length into your throbbing, wet heat in one movement. You want to scream at the intensity of feeling, but he had just told you not to! You suck harder on his fingers to try and stifle yourself, but still end up gasping and whimpering as he fucks you hard and deeply-- true to his word. 

“Make that pretty arch for me,” he says, removing himself from your mouth and gripping into your hips to pull them back further. You arch your back to him, you face laying on your forearms still bracing your body against the wall, when you feel a sharp slap on your ass. “Fuck I love that sound,” he rasps, sliding a soothing palm over the spot he’d just hit. 

“Can I do it again?” He asks. In your mind the question was a mere formality; this man could do basically anything to you. 

“Yes, sir.” He slaps the other check that time, backhanded and you blush at the sound-- loud in the echo of the steamy bathroom, the smacking sound amplified by the water running over your body. 

“Mmm… such a good girl. Here, do you want to come?” he asks softly hooking his arm around your waist to keep you in place as he drives into you then adding pressure back to your clit with his fingertips. It has an almost instantaneous effect on you, making your legs tremble and your breath hitch as you struggle to not make noise. 

“You still have to ask me…” he breathes into your ear. 

“FUCK SIR-- please, I’m so close… will you let me come?” 

His hand grips your neck and turns your head slightly so he can kiss you deeply, slowing his stroke to pull out nearly completely then drive fully into you again. You moan into his mouth barely able to hold on. He had to answer you soon-- now!-- or… or what? 

“FUCK SIR IM COMING-- oh GOD…” You come apart then, unable to stop yourself from crying out and trembling, your pussy clenching and flooding around him. He is leaving kisses on your temple, shoulder and back while continuing to finger and fuck you until your orgasm is thoroughly complete, every tremble in your body utterly spent. 

Feeling you nearly collapse into the wall he pulls out, then turns you to face him holding you tightly to his broad chest. 

“Did that feel good?” he whispers onto your lips. Still in a daze you nod at him as he studies your sexed out expression then kisses you gently. “Good. But you didn’t wait for permission, did you?” 

_Oh shit. What did that mean?_ He steps backwards out of the shower pulling you with him as you follow on weak legs. He moves to lean against the sink counter, still holding you close to him. You both stand dripping on your plush oversized bath mat that takes up most of the small room.

“Good girls are supposed to listen,” he says, tilting your chin up to look up at him. His eyes have a devilish spark to them that sends heat through you even now, fully sated. “Get on your knees and open your mouth.” 

The spark of defiance inside of you flares at this command, and you pause; but the desire pouring from his eyes melts your resolve, and wordlessly you drop to your knees keeping your eyes on him. His thumb reaches down to trace back and forth over your lower lip, “Open.” You comply. “Tongue out.” 

Heat rushing to your face, certain you are blushing up to your scalp, you extend your tongue past your lips. 

“Beautiful,” he praises, moving his hand to stroke your hair and move it back from your face. 

He positions the head of his cock onto the flat of your tongue and moves it in small circles before sliding it into your mouth. Holding your head steady with a grip in your hair, he begins to move in and out of your mouth at a gradual pace allowing for you to adjust to take as much as you can manage. Somehow you knew using your hands wasn’t allowed, so you place palms down on your thighs. 

“Y/N…” he calls under his breath, almost like a prayer. At his encouragement you bob a bit faster, and use your tongue to stroke the underside of his length. “Yes, good… very good…” he murmurs and you watch his loll back with satisfaction as you move over him. He is mostly quiet, but you can sense his pleasure building by the intensity of his grip at your scalp and his other hand flexing and clenching against the sink counters edge. You are lavishing attention to the head, sucking hard with your mouth, tracing the tip with your tongue, humming to create vibrations when his grip tightens in your hair and you hear him gasp. “Y’/N--” he manages to call out the second before he suddenly erupts, his hand gripping his shaft as he spills his come all over your chest. You bite your lip with a not insubstantial amount of pride watching him finish so dramatically due to your hard work. 

He is leaning back against the counter catching his breath when you stand, intending to head right back to the running water of the shower for a second rinse when he grabs your hand and pulls you close into him to leave a kiss at your temple. 

“ _Fuck_ , Y/N,” he whispers, eyes staring into yours and then your breasts covered in his spend. After another long moment, he follows you into the shower and you both clean up for a second time in comfortable satisfied silence. 

Full circle, you return immediately to bed, where he reclines and holds you close to him tucked under a sculpted bicep as he orders the best bagels in the city for delivery -- an act that strikes you as wildly indulgent, but also very welcome. 

“So I have to ask--” you begin as he looks at you and arches an eyebrow. “How did you know I’d be at the coffeeshop?”

“I hacked into your phone. Obviously.”

“OK, but like how…?”

“I hacked into your phone when you messaged me—“

“Which message?”

“What?”

“Which message made you like— mmhmm I’m about to hack into this girls phone!” You smile at him and he actually starts to blush. 

“Never mind that.”

“No, no tell me!” You laugh at him, and move to straddle his lap. “You can’t lie when I’m on top,” you say.

“I would never lie to you,” he replies, with a bit more weight than you were aiming for in the moment. Noted for future reference, however.

“Don’t change the subject. Which message made you hack my phone?” He still looks a bit shy, which is WILD considering just a few minutes past he had commanded you to — 

“When you told me to come get you.” he finally admits. 

“Ohhh…” you intone, tracing a fingertip lazily around his chest. You were glad that the message that pushed him to the next level had been your own, not simply the nude or your silly collaboration with James. “Ok. And then you did. How?”

“Location tracking. You’ve been keeping quarantine for weeks, and the only time you ever leave is to go to the coffeeshop.”

“Oh. Well I guess that wasn’t too hard then.”

He smiles, “No, it really wasn’t.”

“So… what do you do for Anonymous? I know there are a lot of you, but--” 

“I lead our social media task force. That’s why I was the one who saw your DM.”

“Wait-- are you the Anonymous from the videos? From Twitter? With the mask and everything?”

“Yeah.” He shifts a bit uncomfortably. “I don’t like watching myself though. It’s just— kind of awkward.” His humility was really adorable, and you shift closer to him. 

“People LOVE the videos, just so you know. You're doing a really good job.” 

“Well—“ his voice trails a bit. “Thank you,” he finally concedes. 

An intriguing thought occurs to you just then. 

“Oh no, what are you thinking now?” 

Smiling wickedly you give him a mischievous look. “So you have the mask at your place?” 

“Yeah, just for shooting. I don’t like, just wear it while coding…”

“No I get that.” You reach out to trace a fingertip along the chain hugging his neck. “I just— I want to see you in it. In person.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously?” 

You nod at him and he breaks into a smile. You gently press a kiss into his jawline. 

“Very serious. I want to give myself to the movement.” He starts to laugh softly while beginning to stroke along your body where his hand rests against you. 

“Ok. That can be arranged, Oh-- our bagels are here.” He rises and pulls on his jeans sans underwear-- which was somehow insanely hot and leaves to pick up your order from downstairs. 

Alone in your room you stare at the ceiling feeling a surreal kind of bliss. Only as an afterthought do you reach for your phone and turn it off of airplane mode. Back to back notifications begin to pour in so incessantly you switch it to silent before sending a note to James: 

_Don’t worry! No robbery! Good things are going on :) SHHHHH Pretend you didn’t notice anything!_

You hear the front door close and Ben’s footsteps returning. With a kaleidoscope of infatuated butterflies in your stomach, you await his return to your bed with breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually DO have plot planned for this story, but there’s no way you’d have Anonymous/ Ben Solo/ Adam Driver in your house and let him leave after only fucking you once.


	7. What have you done?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has second thoughts...

After Ben leaves later that afternoon, you laze in bed smoking your vape and listening to your moodiest playlist. Starry eyed. Trying to take it all in. 

You’d had an amazing 48 hours. But it wasn’t lost on you that you were playing with fire here. When Ben was standing in front of you, watching you intensely with lust filled eyes it was hard to remember that he’d been tracking your movements for a week and then showed up at the door of your apartment when he knew you would be home alone. By most standards, that would be considered highly problematic. When you roll over onto your stomach though, you notice your sheets still smelled faintly of his cologne and it triggers a wicked flashback of the night before and an urge of longing to see him again.

  
You hear James walk through the hallway to the kitchen and wince— you were going to have to tell him _something_ and you were pretty sure it couldn’t be “Hey, btw I’m fucking Anonymous.” 

Ben was very clear that protecting the identity of group members was paramount. He admitted that he had only taken a chance with you because he had been monitoring your communications _(_ _red flag!)_ and was confident you hadn’t told any of your friends. Further, your friends’ search histories hadn’t looked up his name or any searches that would prompt him to think they were aware of his connection to the group ( _also a red flag!_ ). Honestly who knows what data he’d pulled to reach that conclusion, but he was right-- you hadn’t told anyone and you were going to keep his secret. 

In the moment, you had felt flattered that he trusts you, and proud of yourself for following your instinct in not asking too many prying questions too quickly. But in the golden hour light of the next day your anxieties were growing. _**What had you just done?! What had you just plunged yourself into?**_

Nervously, you pull on sweatpants and a shirt and prepare to talk to James— he was going to let you have it so you might as well do it now when you could petition him to cook enough dinner for two. He calls out from the kitchen as soon as he hears the creak of your door opening. 

“Oh look who it is?!” 

_And so it begins._ “Hey, James…” you answer, walking fully into the room. 

“You don’t have to tell me everything, but I saw that the hoodie on the floor was a XXL Tall so— you probably had a good night.” You actually blush, and rush to the fridge to grab a drink just to have something to do with your hands as you prepare for the rest of your teasing lecture. 

“Don’t be shy NOW! Seeing how you apparently jumped him on sight! Clothes were piled literally in front of the door, y/n. Like, I had to step OVER them to get inside. Who was it even? The damn delivery man? What kind of Porn Hub shit is this?”

You are now bright red, blushing all the way to your scalp but can’t stop laughing as he teases you. “Can I have one?” 

“A quesadilla? Fine. But listen-- I WAS THE ONE who was supposed to have a big sexy reveal today and you are just trampling all over it.” 

“Yes! Please tell me about Marco!” Through laughter you seize the opportunity to change the subject.

James exhales dramatically. “He is … magic, girl.” 

To his credit he drops the topic of Ben there and doesn’t push it further. THANK GOD. You take your quesadillas to the roof to eat just to get some fresh air and let him ramble on about his new guy. You were interested to hear more and happy for your friend, plus you weren’t sure how much you should say about Ben. Or Anonymous. _Or Daddy…_ you think involuntary. What the hell? You’d never even called a man that in bed before. He really brought it out in you. 

As you’re heading back to your apartment after dinner you notice a ping from Signal. Instantly excitement rises inside of you, but your anxiety does as well. Maybe a slowdown with Ben would be the right thing to do. It had all started as a joke born out of quarantine boredom and against all odds it had become something real. That could be enough; a wild chapter of your life adding to the general chaos, unpredictability and mania of 2020. 

With that in mind, you ignore the ping and settle in to watch a BBC mystery drama on Netflix with your roommate. Thomas finds a happy spot directly between you both on the sofa, demanding pets with insistent head nudges. Things feel normal and calm. _And_ _a bit boring…_

By the time you head to bed after three episodes of the show, you are up to four Signal notifications.

You try to put it out of your head and check Twitter. The BLM protest movement is now active in every state and the cause is spreading internationally. Confederate and colonial icons are being pulled down globally by a generation fed up with monuments to the legacies of racist violence. Police departments are being disbanded and the online discourse has evolved to include a demand to Defund the Police. You feel a rush of hope-- the first you had in what feels like a long time. Then you see a Tweet from Anonymous: 

**We support the weak against the powerful and stand for justice. Our values are the following:**

**\- Human rights.**

**\- Autonomy & self-governance.**

**\- Resistance against tyranny.**

**\- A more humane society.**

**\- Actions Not Nouns.**

**#Anonymous**

That was your guy. This message of solidarity was from Ben. Your heart throbs. You remember how his hands felt on your body, how his lips felt on your neck, how he felt inside of you... and exhale shakily. Then with every shred of your remaining willpower, you put yourself to bed and prepare for your first training shift in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short transitional chapter-- more to come soon! 
> 
> PREVIEW: Ben doesn’t like being ignored.


	8. If You Want Me, Show It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't wanna rain on this parade  
> But I'm starting to question the love that was made  
> I'm not looking for just an affair  
> Want a love that is based on truth, not just dare

  
  


The first day of barista training was also the first time you had set the alarm on your phone in months. You were so excited to start your new gig and turn the page to a new chapter that you sprang out of bed and into the shower at the first chime, spent an extra 20 minutes doing elaborate eye makeup just because you were excited to have somewhere to go and still arrived to the coffeeshop 10 minutes early. 

The staff is all very friendly, and thanks to James’ extensive personality run down on everyone, you know who to share friendly smiles with and who to give their space. You spend the morning shadowing your new co-worker Poe-- tall, handsome, funny, kinda bossy. _Look at this normal guy that you could flirt with,_ you think to yourself. _He probably wouldn't even KNOW how to hack into your phone._ Even with these cutting thoughts in your mind, however, every time the bell over the door rings announcing a new customer you flinch a bit and turn to look, certain Ben would walk in. He knew you were starting work today. And the location settings on your phone were turned on. 

You still hadn’t checked your Signal messages in an attempt to purge him from your system; there were too many unknowns for something like this to continue. Regardless, in your quiet moments throughout the day you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting back to the weekend's events and smiling to yourself. You cannot believe some of the things you did. You cannot believe the words that came out of his mouth! All day you were worried that he would come in to see you; all day you were disappointed that he didn’t arrive. 

Whatever. He had probably already taken the hint. A man like that wasn’t likely to get hung up over a weekend fling. Especially not one that started from a nude in his DMs. 

When your training shift ends you feel a bit too despondent to head straight home. James had decided to take online summer courses and would be watching lectures in his room until late in the evening. You weren’t in the mood to just sit in your room by yourself. With so many of your usual hangouts still closed under quarantine, you begin walking to one of the only places still open -- Trader Joes. It had been a few weeks since you had done proper food shopping in person. Every few days you went to pick up staples from the bodega and James had produce delivered from a farmers market subscription service. Today however, your life was so dull that grocery shopping counted as an exciting after work outing. 

To practice social distancing, the store had a “one in one out” policy and you head to the back of the line. This time in the afternoon there were only 3 people ahead of you so hopefully the wait wouldn’t be too long. Looking down at your phone deciding between what podcast to play you notice a dark shadow cross the sidewalk; someone has gotten in line behind you. You start a true crime podcast, which you find oddly soothing despite the dark subject matter. A person leaves the store and you move forward one slot, casually looking behind you and … Fuck. It was Ben. **_FUCK_ **. 

You start to run scenarios. Is this a coincidence? This is the only Trader Joes in your neighborhood so he _could_ just be here to get food. SHIT-- you had never even asked him where he lives. Who knows if this is his neighborhood? _See?! This is why you need to stop; he doesn't allow you to think with a clear head._ OK, there’s no proof he was following you. You hadn’t been here in a while, maybe this is just part of his normal routine! I mean, he _had_ admitted to hacking into the location tracking on your phone, but… 

Should you say something?

You get a ping on your phone. It's from Signal. From Ben’s place in line he can see you check your screen. Damnit. He caught you-- if he was looking. You were either going to not answer at all -- which would be a clear sign that you were not interested in him and didn’t want to communicate anymore-- or he was forcing you to respond to him right now. Seconds go by and the only thing you are conscious of is the sound of your own breathing. The next person goes into the store ahead of you and you move up the line six feet, still in a haze. _Just fucking read the messages, if they’re terrible you can still not respond._

You open Signal and see the following: 

_Hey sweetheart. Just checking in, Had a lot of work to do tonight but wish I was still in bed with you_

_Are you into K-Pop by any chance?_

[ _https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/carolinehaskins1/dallas-police-kpop_ ](https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/carolinehaskins1/dallas-police-kpop)

_I’m pretty proud of this one :)_

  
  


Goddamnit. He was being SO SWEET and honestly fucking HEROIC. And you had **_IGNORED HIM?!_ ** Flooded with guilt and shame you feel your face grow hot. The line moves again. You are next to enter the store when someone leaves but until then you are hostage in place. There was one more message-- the one he sent just now from behind you. 

_If I did something wrong I apologize. If you don’t respond I’ll leave you alone. But I thought we had a good time… ?_

OH GOD. Thoughtful and mature. Honest. Not even mad or angry. You’d dated guys who had punched holes through drywall for less. Desperately wanting to make amends you turn around to face him, eyes wide in a nonverbal apology. He looks at you with an emotion you couldn’t read, but before you could speak or do anything else it was your turn to go inside. 

You walk into the store in a bit of a daze, picking up random items, indifferent to your grocery list. If he was really here to shop he’d be here somewhere and you may be able to say something to him now-- but could you really have this conversation in the Trader Joes frozen section? This was getting too stressful. Pulling your cart into a corner near the sample station, you reach for your phone and respond to him. 

_No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I should have just talked to you, probably. Also, I love K-Pop -- Mels is a BLINK_

You hit send and wait. At the very least not leaving him on read assuages some of your guilt. **_You had left a hero of the movement on read?!_ ** Another pang of regret hits you, so you add:

_That article is amazing. Proud of you._

That was enough to settle your stomach. You put your phone away deep inside your bag in an attempt to focus on buying foods that make sense and go together, rather than the frantic mix of items currently in your cart. 

You don't check your phone again until you’re standing at the checkout line. He had written back. 

_Let me drive you home. You are buying way too much to carry back._

He was right. You hadn’t even remembered that you walked here and Uber may or may not be the best idea during a pandemic. 

_Ok. I’m in line now. See you outside._

Exiting the building you see Ben waiting next to a dark grey Tesla Model S. He was wearing a white tshirt with a deeper V-neck than usual under his jacket today, His hair was hanging in loose waves and you felt a desperate need to sink your fingers into their softness at the back of his neck. When he sees you he leans up to standing, opens the trunk and puts all your things away while you stand watching awkwardly. 

“I can help…”

“No, no I’ve got it. Go sit down up front.” he says, grabbing the last two bags, placing them in the back and then circling the cart to return it near the door. 

You climb into the car, which is more of a spaceship than a standard vehicle. You are afraid to touch anything until he gets back. When he takes the driver's seat and removes his mask revealing his full face, your stomach drops. This man could really ask you anything. When he was in front of you, you would do whatever he said. 

“Do you need to go straight home?”

“No,” you reply with a shake of your head. 

“Can we do a bit of a drive?” 

“Sure,” you reply. 

He nods in return and pulls away from the store. The car drives with a weightlessness that is disarming but thrilling. You couldn’t tell if you were terrified or excited. The two of you ride in silence and within a few minutes he drives up one of the classically steep San Francisco hills that’s almost completely vertical and into the Presidio National Park. You are reminded that you spent the previous 24 hours a bit afraid of this man and now you were in his car driving into a forest. _Wow, your decision making skills were UNMATCHED._

Looking out of the window you get a bit lost in the shadows of the dark eucalyptus forest. The only other time you’d been up here was for Kiana’s birthday picnic on the park’s main lawn. He was driving you through the back end of the park that was more natural, each road lined with shady thirty foot tall trees and criss crossed with walking trails. 

You feel the car pull into a parking spot at the crest of a hill. You hadn’t realized how high you were, but see now you were towering over the entire bay. In the late afternoon sunshine the deep navy blue of the waves sparkled with bright white lights. You can see the Golden Gate Bridge from the same angle as the postcards sold in tourist shops, the undisturbed green hills of Marin on the other side, a long narrow sandy beach peaking from the end of a sharp drop at the peak's cliff edge. Sitting here the city felt a world away. 

Ben cracks his car door and steps outside; you supposed you were walking. You follow him to a narrow path you hadn’t noticed, down a slight incline to a bench tucked into the hillside where he sits. You join him about two feet apart, trying to create space between you so that you can properly think. The air around you is deliciously crisp and is scented with eucalyptus. 

“So what should you have talked to me about?” he starts. 

_Might as well jump right into it._ You exhale. “Ben — I don’t know anything about you and you know all about me. It’s not fair. And also the way you know where I am and can just pop up -- it’s creepy! I don’t even know what neighborhood you live in.”

“Oh. Well. I live in SOMA. Is that a good start?”

You nod. 

“And if you had answered my messages I wouldn’t have had to come see you today.”

“Well--”

“If I didn’t show up you probably would have ghosted me. And now you’re sitting here.”

You open your mouth to respond but don’t actually have a rebuttal for that. You close your mouth and look away. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he says, giving you a _look_. 

“Ben-- Listen. I know you’re a hacker genius doing great things for the movement, but could you just use your powers for good? And not like, do a full counterintelligence mission on me every time we meet up?” 

He looks down and gives a soft laugh. “Yes. I can do that. But you have to respond to me. Even if you don’t want to talk to me anymore-- you have to tell me. No ghosting. I-- I really don’t like that,” he finishes sharply.

You nod. That was fair. 

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, leaning in to you. 

“Maybe. You have to tell me at least two more things about yourself. Until then I’m undecided.” 

“Go for it.”

“Is Anonymous a full time thing? Or do you like … work?

“I sold my startup two years ago. I’m still on their board. but I work with Anonymous most days.” he shifts over toward you again. 

“Ok. I have another one. What inspired you to get into all of this? How long have you been with the group?

“That’s two questions,” he says as he finally moves close enough that your bodies are touching side by side. “So I’ll answer your first one. What inspired me? My parents were Resistance fighters. It’s how I was raised.” 

You finally turn your body to face him. 

“They taught me to fight against an unjust regime when I see one. And I think that’s what’s happening now. It's unconscionable what society allows for the police to get away with in this country. It’s not right and it needs to be eradicated. And ICE too! The whole system is corrupt and reform is not sufficient-- they need to be defunded! I’m glad people are waking up to that now.”

His passionate social justice rant was really lighting a fire inside of you. And learning these details about his background helped to unclench some of the anxieties in your stomach. Your eyes meet his with shivering want for the first time today. 

“I really like to hear you talk,” you say in a low tone.

He leans close to you, and raises a large palm cupping your face. You lean into it-- his touch alone sending a tremor through your body. 

“ACAB, baby,” he whispers onto your lips. 

At that you lean forward and press your lips into his, all of your willpower broken. He grips his long fingers into the back of your head and pulls you closer to him sharply as he enters your mouth with his tongue. You melt against him completely. He trails the knuckles of his free hand against your throat as he holds you pressed against him by the grip of his other hand in your hair. 

When he breaks the kiss and pulls back half an inch you let out a sound close to a whimper. 

“Say you want me,” he whispers. His other hand rises to hold you on either side of your head, staring into your eyes desperately. “I know you do. Say it. SAY IT.” 

“Yes… I want you Ben,” you gasp. 

He kisses you deeply again then, one hand holding your neck with authority. 

“Good. I have a job for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES he’s a Top w stalker-adjacent tendencies, but on the inside Ben is still baby


	9. Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe all of Reader’s fears were justified, but look how the hair falls over his eyes….

_He had a job for you?_

You look at him blankly, caught in an emotional whiplash. His words and hands on your body had you wondering how private this spot really was and how far he would try to take things outside in a park... But now you were about to get an assignment from Anonymous?! How could you possibly contribute? What the fuck was he talking about?

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“Are you working tomorrow? Look-- I’m asking since apparently you don’t want me to just check for myself,” he says with a tease in his voice as he moves a strand of your hair behind your ear, fingers still holding on to your neck as he watches you closely. As if you were being slightly unreasonable for asking him to not to hack into the staff schedule database.

You bite your lower lip and give him a playfully defiant glare, “Only in the morning. I’ll be done by 1pm.”

“I’ll pick you up after. We’ll talk more then. I'm afraid I don’t have time to play tonight.” He says releasing his grip on your neck, trailing fingertips down your collarbone. “Soon though.” He leaves a gentle kiss on your lips that makes your stomach flutter. “Now let me get you home like I promised.” 

He stands and reaches out a hand for you. He is striking in the afternoon light, a sudden gust of wind blowing a curl across his eyes. With a shuddering exhale, you place your hand in his. 

On the way to your place, he drives with a possessive hand on your body at all times: the back of your neck, stroking the lengths of your hair, gripping you firmly mid thigh. You lean into his touch, admitting to yourself that you were not strong enough to resist him. Whatever this was now, you were along for the ride. 

When the car pulls in front of your building Ben reaches for your fingertips as you move to exit, looking at you with dark knowing eyes. “If you touch yourself tonight and make yourself come, you have to tell me.” 

His words trigger a wave of heat through you, making your pussy clench. All you can manage is to blink at him.

“Promise you will?” He says in an even lower tone. 

You nod blankly. Only then does he get out to help you carry up your bags. When your groceries are placed on the counter, he turns to pull you into him and kisses you again firmly pressed into the doorframe. 

“Remember what I said.” And then he leaves. 

You linger in place against the wall, almost dizzy. Only when you hear the ding of the elevator close down the hall, signaling that he had left your floor, can you break the spell enough to move inside and close the door. You put your groceries away then knock on James’ door to tell him you went grocery shopping and begin to make a simple dinner for you both. 

Close to midnight you lay in bed tracing your own hands on your thighs, remembering the way it felt when Ben did it. You grab your phone. 

_I’m about to…_

That’s all you have the courage to write. 

_Good_. He writes back almost instantly. 

_When you finish get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow._

You groan softly to yourself. How could he send something so benign and make you so wet? You handle yourself quickly thinking of Ben, then go to bed directly after-- just as he asked-- in preparation for your big day. 

***

Your second day of training goes even better than the one before. On your third attempt in latte art you had created a nice enough palm design that you earned a nod of respect from Poe. He was a heavy flirt with everyone, but from the way he held your gaze in certain moments you detected a genuine hint of interest there. 

Just before 1pm, you spot Ben’s Tesla park out front. You expected him to wait for you in the car, but watch him exit the car to come inside. Today he’s wearing a black sweater that you can tell even at a distance was made of a rich, soft cotton and as he walks you notice how it clings to the muscles of his back. Although he wears a mask, you can tell from the crinkles by his eyes that he cast a smile your way as you followed Poe around the back counter wrapping up a large online order. 

Ben orders his usual dark roast and as he reaches for his wallet leans forward and calls to you. “Y/N, do you want anything?” 

Startled, you jump slightly and blush. “Um-- just a cappuccino with oat milk, extra hot.” 

You had been removing your apron about to end your shift and felt a little put out-- his question identified you both as an item of some sort. He had obviously wanted your coworkers to know that you were spoken for. Danielle rings it up and finishes the transaction as normal, but you could feel Poe eye you with a renewed interest, then see him do a once-over on Ben. It is clear that Ben notices, and when he finishes paying he moves to the cream and sugar counter with an air of casual defiance. 

Poe turns back to you. “Ok, that’s it today. Good job on your latte art, you’ll be a pro by the end of the week,” he says with an unsubtle wink. 

“Sure. Thank you, again,” you respond, eager to end this odd standoff of meaningful looks. Quickly you dart into the back room to get your bag and then walk up to Ben. 

“Ready?” he says softly, pulling you into him and planting a kiss on your hair, leaving no doubts. 

“Sure, let’s go.” You give your co-workers a wave and leave for the day. 

Sitting down in Ben’s Tesla like this was all normal, like you naturally belong with a man like him in a machine like this was a bit overwhelming. You concentrate on trying to act natural, despite the flutters in your stomach as you remembered why he was picking you up in the first place. _He had a job for you._

“So where are we going?” you ask. 

“My office. Or, my former office. I still have the lease, I just let people from the group use it when they’re in town.”

“The group as in Anonymous?” He nods. 

“OK-- just so I’m clear: Right now you’re taking me to Anonymous’ SF headquarters-- which you are funding-- and you are giving me an assignment?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He accelerates then, taking advantage of the empty street because of quarantine and sends the Tesla flying. Your stomach drops from the speed plus the hill you are now careening down and you can't help but dig your nails into your thighs and let out a sharp half-scream. 

He reaches over to take your hand. “You’re safe with me. Don’t worry.” 

You swallow hard and run your free hand nervously over your scalp. _FUCK what were you doing?!_

Finally, Ben slows as he turns a corner into the SOMA neighborhood and pulls into a parking lot underneath what appears to be a historic warehouse building. Your entire body tingles with nervous anxiety from the drive, from Ben’s presence, from anticipation of whatever he was about to ask you to do. 

You follow him through a dingy hallway, up two flights of black metal stairs to a landing where he scans a key card and then a door slides open with a whisper. 

Inside was a large loft space with unimaginably high ceilings, one wall lined with enormous windows that allowed you to see outside, although from the street they were dark and reflective revealing nothing of the interior. There were about a dozen modern white wooden desks spread out in an open floor plan and about half a dozen people inside. Some were obviously coding or researching, others talked across their desks in what seemed like intense discussion. One of them was wearing the iconic Guy Fawkes mask synonymous with Anonymous. You are standing taking it all in when a woman approaches you both. 

“Oh, good you’re here. This is Y/N? Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Rose.” She extends a hand and shakes yours with a firm grip. Instantly you trusted her, she was one of those people that just exuded confidence and competence. 

“Hi,” you reply. 

“Let’s talk over here,” she begins to lead you away to a quiet corner with a long angular sofa covered in a plush dark green velvet sitting on a thick woven ivory rug. She sits with one leg tucked under her and unconsciously you mirror her to do the same. Ben stands to your left and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“How much have you told her?” Rose asks.

“I was actually waiting for you to do the walkthrough, since it's more of your area,” Ben says. He turns to you. “Rose leads our work around dictators. It has been mostly an international beat--”

“-- until recently.” Rose finishes with narrowed eyes. “But don’t get me started on that. OK, let me get you caught up.” Rose leans forward. 

“You were supposed to be working at a law firm this summer but then it was cancelled because of the economic fallout from the pandemic, right? I have reason to believe that that firm is helping to hide records of money laundering, corruption and who knows what else for at least one of the targets we’re tracking.”

Your eyes widen and your mind starts racing. What the fuck does this have to do with you…?

“Anyway, they actually have pretty secure servers within the firm, especially as it relates to the files we’re looking for. So we were hoping you could be our lead in.” They both turn to look at you waiting for your answer. 

“I - um… you know I don’t work there, right? I haven’t talked to anyone from there since they rescinded my offer. I’m working at a coffee shop right now--”

“We know,” Rose respond. _Of course they know._ “But if you could reach out to someone from the firm and make inquiries about-- whatever makes sense. Maybe say you’d like to consider another opportunity in the fall? Or try to set up informational interviews with some of the lawyers? Basically, if you can start some kind of back and forth communications we may be able to get some of the data we need about what kind of systems they’re using during work from home. They have to be getting into those files while the office is closed. We just need access.”

“If it's a Zoom call or something, we may be able to make a connection…” Ben adds as Rose nods vigorously seemingly able to pick up exactly what he meant. 

“So, does that sound good?” Rose asks. 

“Uh… I can try?” 

“Great! Maybe draft the email tonight and send early tomorrow? It would be great if we could get started on the hack by the end of the week. That way we could fit the new info into your social media plan, Ben.”

“Exactly, that would be perfect. We’re working on the Bolsonaro piece right now so it could be included with that.” 

“Great.” Rose and Ben continue to talk about their communications strategy while your mind spins. You were about to help Anonymous hack into a law firm? One that you were hoping to convince that you were worthy enough to work for in a year? You needed a drink. 

“So good to meet you, y/n.” Rose stands up and she smiles at you while heading over to a desk. “Welcome to Anonymous.”


	10. Obvious Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he was going to drag you into vigilante cyber warfare the least he could do was fuck you properly on request.

Three hours later you are reclining on a long grey sofa opposite Ben’s desk in his large personal office, one of eight all glass cubes with doors opposite the window wall lining the warehouse. Half of them seemed to be reserved for senior Anonymous members, the others people used freely as meeting space or for private or sensitive calls. Ben's desk was arranged with four large monitors and a range of gadgets and accessories you weren’t familiar with but seemed security-related. Behind his desk was a green screen and video recording set up, clearly where the viral Anonymous videos were made. 

Ben had given you a MacBook to use to draft the email for your first assignment. It had been scrubbed of all identifying information and was loaded with the highest security software the group produced. Rule #2 of Anonymous was to never use your personal devices for your work. Rule #1 was simple: Anonymity. You were so overwhelmed you didn't even ask for the full list; you were confident someone would tell you when it became necessary.

Although your task was relatively simple, the enormity of what you were about to do was clouding your brain. You tried to start with a simple email to the hiring manager that you had communicated with the most during the interview process with the firm. Over the course of your interactions he had maintained a professional tone that was so formal it crossed into severe. You had been intimidated to communicate with him when you were eager to please and honest, so the thought of going through him with the intent of spycraft riddled you with anxiety. 

So far you have written: _Hello Armitage, Hope you’re having a good week._ Was that even appropriate to say anymore? Who the fuck was having a good week in 2020? 

You delete that and start again. _Good Morning Armitage, I hope this email finds you in good health._ Well, that sounded slightly morbid and ripped directly from a Victorian novel. In exasperation you let out a heavy sigh. 

“You OK over there?” calls Ben.

“Yeah… this is just harder to pull together than I thought. I’m nervous.” Ben pauses what he’s doing and comes to sit next to you. 

“I find, when writing something difficult, just think to yourself what you’re really trying to say and start with that. Tone it down and change the flow after you have stated your main point. See?” 

He takes the laptop from you and begins to write: _Good Morning Armitage, I would like to discuss opportunities with your firm in the fall. Would you or another member of your team be available for an informational interview? I am interested in ….”_

He hands it back to you. “See those are the main points. Now since you know him, add the fluff. Make it conversational. Put it in their language.” 

“Yeah that makes sense. Thanks.” He drapes an arm around you and you lean against him. The plush cotton of Ben’s black sweater was a comfort against your skin; the fabric held the fragrance of his woodsy cologne and his natural scent in a satisfying way that calmed you. 

“Maybe you need a break. I dropped a lot of info on you today, didn’t I?” You look at him with an annoyed _DO YOU THINK?! e_ xpression and he laughs. 

“Have you eaten today? We need to take care of that too. Let me wrap up and I’ll take you home.” The flash of disappointment in your face must have shown through because he pauses, then says, “Unless you want to come to my place?”

You nod in response and answer, “Yes, please-- Sir,” making your intentions clear. 

“OH,” Ben replies, a slight blush rising in his face. He shifts a bit uncomfortably on the sofa, and self consciously looks behind him through the glass to the main office. You take a casual glance yourself; no one was paying any attention to either of you, so you turn your head and leave a kiss on the base of his neck on his collarbone, then use the tip of your tongue to trace a line under the thin chain he always wore. He grabs your hair by the root and pulls you back from him, while you bite your lower lip and look back at him without apology. 

“Ok. It’s time to take you home. You’re done with work for the day.” You nod in agreement. “I’m going to save what I’m working on. Give me a second.” 

He releases your hair and rises to stand, then takes another look outside of the glass wall, checking for voyeurs. Apparently seeing none, he leans forward with one knee on the sofa and wraps his large hand around your throat making your breath hitch while he pushes you against the back cushions. His lips crush into yours the next moment but before you can deepen the kiss he pulls away to whisper in your ear. 

“If it wasn’t so busy in here right now I would fuck you just like this,” he says squeezing your neck a bit harder. 

You feel yourself grow wet with need underneath his grip, but before you can respond in any way he releases you roughly and walks over to his desk. Still standing he begins typing rapidly and shutting down his workstation while you lay in the position he had held you in, heart racing. You were unashamed of making such a forward advance; if he was going to drag you into vigilante cyber warfare the least he could do was fuck you properly on request.

“Come on, we’re walking,” he says a minute or so later. “It’s not far.” 

_Thank God,_ you think internally, grateful for a walk since the last ride had been like taking a rocket through the streets of a major city. Plus you needed to release a bit of pent up energy. 

Ben’s place was a brisk ten minute walk away on another block of what looked like historic commercial and warehouse spaces. He leads you to a discrete path on the side of a red brick building, walks up to a black metal security gate, enters a code and pulls open the grate. A narrow outdoor corridor is next, then a heavy black door leading into the building that required another code to enter. Finally inside, you see a long oblong hallway with half a dozen elevators. He strides confidently to one and scans a black featureless key card on a metal sensor to call it; when it arrives he gestures in an “after you” motion as you enter. The elevator takes off dramatically, fast enough to make your stomach drop and you reach for Ben’s hand; in return he gives it a comforting squeeze and smiles down at you. 

At the top, the doors open directly into his space. It is an enormous open loft decorated in furnishings with clean minimalist lines in neutral colors. Oversized windows expose stunning views of the city and the Bay Bridge in the fading early evening light. You stand in the elevator gawking until Ben takes your hand and pulls you into his home, guiding you to the left through a set of double doors and onto his private corner of the building rooftop. The outdoor space was scattered with simply designed and well made dark wood patio furniture. He settles into a lounger facing the Bay Bridge view and pulls you down with him, your back against his chest. 

“I ordered us dinner, it will be here soon,” He holds you and strokes your hair in a calming motion that soothes the nervousness in your stomach. You lose track of how long you lay like this until Ben gets a notice that your food has arrived. 

When he returns, you notice it's from a Japanese restaurant that you and James love and rave about wistfully all the time, but only go to when one of his wealthy relatives is in town and feels like treating you to dinner. You almost asked Ben why he had chosen this place, but when he hands you your favorite chirashi bowl out of the delivery bag you knew the answer. He had just looked it up in your delivery account. Or no, that couldn’t be right-- from your messages? _This could be a problem later,_ your mind calls out to you, but you push that thought aside reaching for a soy sauce packet before devouring your meal. You were starving and hadn’t even noticed until this moment. Ben sits opposite you and pulls out his laptop to work while he ate, which was OK with you since it gave you space to work through your own anxiety-laced thoughts.

Looking up and seeing what must have been a worried expression on your face, Ben asks, “Hey-- are you, OK?”

“Yeah I’m just… kind of scared to do this, Ben. What if they trace it back to me? What does that mean?” 

“Well, it’s not that different than protesting.” You arch your eyebrows in disbelief. “It’s not! Y/N, I know you are committed to this fight. What Anonymous is doing is just activism in a different way. Last week you were ready to face arrest or tear gas at the protests. The only difference is that you were in SF where they largely gave protestors space to demonstrate and not in Oakland where they brought in military police. Resistance to systemic injustice is the point of it all, right? To fight for what's right and be prepared for the consequences?” 

“Well, sure....” 

“Anonymous is not going after good people-- that firm is shielding war criminals for God's sake. Just because they wear suits instead of cop uniforms doesn’t make them different. And look— if we get the files and we’re wrong? If they aren’t doing what Rose thinks they are? Well, then nothing happens. We take no action. We’re rebels _with_ a cause, Y/N, not anarchists. I trust Rose to handle this responsibly.” 

Pacified, you nod. “Ok, I know you’re right. But I’m still nervous.” You reach for the vape in your bag but he reaches over and grabs your hand, puts it away, then moves back over to the bench where you’re sitting. 

“You don’t need that. You only need me.” Ben presses a kiss into your temple. “Don't think of anything else right now. You need to relax. Get out of your head.” You were nodding along at his words, feeling desperate for exactly what he was describing. 

“I have just a few things left to finish. Why don’t you go take a bath? I'll be waiting when you’re done. If I wrap early I’ll join you.” He says with a smile. 

“Ok. You’re right. Where even is it? Your place is huge.” He grins and looks down at the ground with humility as he stands. 

“Well, it's very secure, that’s the most important thing. Probably more space than I need though.”

He leads you up a staircase you hadn't noticed to the top floor loft which was entirely his bedroom-- a large king size bed at the center with dark colored sheets, a desk with a workstation, a wall of bookcases crammed with titles and a bathroom with a stand-alone shower and a deep soaking tub. 

“You’ll be waiting for me when I’m done?” you ask coyly.

“I’m going to set up at the desk right here. I’m stopping as soon as you’re ready for me,” he says against your lips. 

Satisfied and calmed, you draw yourself a bath then sit back into the steaming water. There was so much going on in your life right now that although a part of you wanted to continue to parse through it all, to consider and reconsider what you should do next, to think critically about Ben’s myriad of red flags that you continually ignored-- you were mentally exhausted. More than anything you wanted to do just as he suggested and give it all a rest for the night. 

After a good 45 minute soak, you wrap yourself in the towels he had left and use the body lotion you find near the sink, which you are amazed a man even has. It was from some local hipster brand based in Hayes Valley and as you apply it you realize you smell faintly of him now and smile. You exit in a cloud of steam to see Ben lounging on his bed, shirt and shoes off, weary only black jeans, his full muscled torso on display. He reaches for you and has you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Do you feel a bit better?” He presses his thumbs into your shoulders as a massage and it feels so good you let out a frankly sexual moan; you hadn’t even realized you were tense there. “Oh little girl… I want you limp and exhausted by the end of the night. No more tension, OK?” 

“Yes, sir,” you answer softly, as he continues to knead the stress out of your neck.

“Y/N, do you trust me?”

“Yes, sir.” you murmur, feeling your muscles release under his strong hands.

“Good,” he places a kiss at the nape of your neck. “Sometimes the best way to relax is to give up control. Do you want to do that with me?” His hand moves down your shoulder, just grazing your skin sending goosebumps through your body until he holds your right hand in his. 

At his words your mind goes blank. You blink rapidly, in an attempt to process them fully but your brain is short circuiting. Then you reply in a whisper: “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I want to try some things that I think will help get you out of your own head. But I want to respect your limits,” He presses his lips into your collarbone, then your shoulder flooding your body with heat. “If you ever want me to slow down just say ‘yellow’; and if you want me to stop say ‘red’. alright? If you beg me-- or say anything else-- I’m going to take it as part of our game, ok?” 

You nod. 

“What does yellow mean?” he says softly into your ear. 

“Slow down.” 

“And red?” he pulls at the end of the towel wrapped around you, which is tucked under one arm. It tumbles down your body, pooling at your waist, exposing your breasts. You swallow and close your eyes to take a deep breath. 

“Red means I want you to stop.” 

“Exactly.” 

Ben moves to stand in front of you and removes his belt, but rather than toss it aside, holds it in his hands. 

“Let me see your wrists.” 

He looks down at you darkly and your heart starts racing— _was he about to…?_

Sure enough, when you present your wrists in front of you he wraps the soft buttery leather of his belt around them and pulls tightly so you can’t separate them, then fastens the buckle. You look up into his eyes and your breath hitches; he watches you for a long moment, giving you a chance to use the safe words. But you don’t want to, so you say nothing. 

With a nod, he reaches over and pulls something from a drawer, then returns to you. Next you feel him slide a blindfold over your eyes; it is pure black silk and feels luxurious on your face. You sit on the edge of the bed bound and blinded, breathing shallowly, mind quiet, waiting for his voice. 

“You touched yourself last night? Show me. Lie back, there-- against the headboard.” You pivot and back into the headboard which was lined with velvet and felt warm against your bare skin. “That’s right. Open your legs. Show me how you did it. Tonight I’m going to help.”

You bite your lip. You can’t imagine just opening your legs so he can watch you play with yourself...? 

“Don’t be shy, little girl. You know we’re past that.” 

You feel yourself blush at his words. Then notice a shift in the mattress as he joins you on the bed, followed by the warmth of his hands as he begins stroking up and down your thighs and around the curve of your hip. Sufficiently encouraged, you slowly spread your legs per his command, displaying yourself. He moans just audibly, but even blindfolded you can feel him watching you. Hesitantly, you trace a finger along your folds, giving yourself the first tremors of pleasure, before grazing fingertips over your clit, making you draw a quick, sharp breath.

“There you go. Touch yourself…” 

His hands are still caressing your calves, thighs, even ankles, You begin to rub yourself faster, releasing a slight moan, beginning to get lost in the sensation you are creating, when you feel the angle of his hands on you change, and then the brush of his lips against your inner thigh. You call out to Ben in a whisper and arch toward his mouth. His loose waves tickle the sensitive skin between your legs as he kisses a trail up to your center and then back down the other side. When you call out his name again in a soft tone, it sparks something in him, and the gentle almost reverent kisses turn into long stokes of his tongue up the flesh of your thighs making you moan and start to shudder; but his hands clamp around you, pinning you to the bed, compelling you to take all the pleasure; not allowing you to back away from it. 

You are rubbing your clit in even faster circles now, when Ben dips his head to slide his eager tongue directly into your wet core making you scream and grind your hips into his face. He holds you tightly in place with his large hands as his tongue moves in circles in your pussy, tasting the flood of your arousal. You are whimpering now, unable to be silent as your fingers on your clit continue to move even faster. Ben’s tongue matches your rhythm, messily licking your folds and core, devouring you, murmuring his own desire into your pussy. 

Your climax hits you all at once and you scream so loud you raise your bound hands to your mouth to stifle the noise, but Ben's hand shoots up and pulls them away— telling you nonverbally that he wanted you loud. In response, your voice calls out as your body arches and twitches under his firm grip on your hips. Through it all he doesn’t stop moving his tongue. Lost in your own pleasure you realize that the flood of your come is probably soaking his face. Knowing Ben though, he probably loves it. 

Your hand had slowed then stilled when your orgasm hit suddenly, and Ben now swats your useless digits away to take the bud of you clit into his mouth, moving slowly, drawing out your pleasure, sending you even higher to bliss— creating a second climax that built off of the ebbing wave of the first. 

“BEN!! fuckfuckfuckfuck— oh GOD,” you are completely lost in pleasure— you worry you may blackout. 

When the spasming subsides and you feel yourself growing over sensitive, you weave your bound hands into his locks and pull on his hair by the root, raising his head from you. Somehow you swear you can hear his self-satisfied smile. 

“Was that good, little girl? It seemed good. Mmm you are more than dripping now…” he says, licking your hip and beginning to nibble there. He would probably leave a mark; that was fine. 

“What are you supposed to call me in bed, though?” 

You are gasping, still trying to catch your breath. When you remember. “Oh-- Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” 

“That’s OK. Just don’t forget again. I’d hate to have to punish you. Especially when you’re being so good…”

He is wiping his dripping face- wet from your come— on your belly, then nibbling you, then leaving a kiss, then rubbing the other side of his face moving up your body. He threads his head between your arms, your bound wrists circling his neck, and leans down to kiss your lips ravenously. He tastes like you everywhere— his tongue, his lips, even the skin of his neck. Knowing you had done this to him makes you feel so powerful. 

He doesn’t move to escalate, just spends precious minutes kissing you thoroughly, deeply, weaving one had into the roots on your hair. The other stroking up and down your leg, wrapping it around himself; tracing a fingernail up your calf generating goosebumps. Your pussy throbs, soaking wet, desperately waiting for him to fill you. But you are lost in this moment, in every feeling-- mind blissfully blank. You wished you could stay right here; live on this plane of reality forever. 

“Mmm baby lift your arms,” Ben whispers into your ear. 

When you raise them, he straddles your body and leans forward to the headboard. Blindfolded you can’t see what he’s doing, but hear a snap? _What…?_ Then you feel a hook slip under the bind at your wrist. Instantly you pull back and realize you’re now hooked to his headboard. 

“Is that ok baby? Not too tight?” 

“Mmmhmm” you murmur, not entirely sure of your answer. _Not too tight for what?_

“Try turning on your stomach, do your wrists feel ok when you do that?” You roll to test it and the hook rotates with your movement. 

“Yes sir,” You respond. Mind blank, ready for whatever he wanted next. It felt glorious to not make any decisions; to just stop fucking thinking. 

He traced one of his large palms up your body, your ass in particular, gripping the flesh firmly with his fingers. “You’re so beautiful…” he says and you glow under his praise. 

With a hand on your hip Ben turns you so you’re laying on your side, bound wrists in front of you raised just above your head. He pulls you into his body like a little spoon, stroking your torso, squeezing your breasts in his large hands, fingers pinching and teasing your nipples. His other arm circles under your arms and neck until he places two fingers on your lips. 

“Open.” You obey. “Suck…” he commands in a barely audible tone. 

It was unbelievable how sexy it was to take his command; it was wild to think his authority over you didn’t need anything more than a whisper and you would comply. You suck his long fingers hard, lavishing your tongue over them, under them and the skin in between. You flicker your tongue over his fingertips, before leaning your head slightly forward to take even more of his long digits into your mouth, until you can feel them nearly at the back of your throat. 

“Goddamn, Y/N…” he moans. You can feel his hard length pressed against you and begin to grind your ass into him. 

“You’re ready for more, then?” 

You nod and moan “mmhmm” to the best of your ability, his fingers still in your mouth. 

“How many times can you come, do you think?” he murmurs into your ear. 

He removes his fingers and then uses both hands to shift your legs and position his hard cock at your entrance, moving it over your pussy to coat the head with your juices as you begin to whimper and back into him, tired of the teasing, needing to feel him inside of you. “I want to melt you into a puddle.” 

With one firm thrust of his hips he sinks into your wet and wanting core all the way to the hilt, gripping your hips and moaning at the feeling. Instantly you begin to clench around him, calling out as he thrusts again and again finding a hard and fast rhythm that has you building to orgasm within the minute. You move to reach back to him, intending to pull his head to yours, or maybe place a hand on his hip to feel him thrust into you from a different angle-- but meet resistance from your binds, which clamor at your movement. Ben slows momentarily, but you angle your face back towards his and give a wicked smile confirming that you are OK. 

“Harder, Sir…” your voice is almost a purr. 

With encouragement, Ben’s hips began to snap with urgency, more moans tumbling from his lips, and sending shockwaves and shivers between your legs as he cleaved you open. He grips a hand around your throat while pulling your head into the crook of his neck and tightens it so your breath comes in shallow and rapid. 

“Oh God, Sir…” you pant. “You’re going to make me come a third time…” You felt warm and relaxed with pleasure mounting in your belly. “Sir… I’m close… I’m so close…”

“Come for me, Y/N,” he growls into your ear, pumping into you harder and deeper as your walls clench around his rapidly working cock. You feel just the tip of his fingertip move over your clit and you completely break, plunging over the edge into your next climax, your entire body convulsing against his hard chest, his hand tight at your throat, his hips thrusting into you relentlessly. In your ecstasy you pull against your binds but they hold you in place, forcing you to stay in the position he placed you in, taking the pleasure he gave you head on and not retreating from it even an inch. He grunted and the sound broke, and you knew he was struggling, staving off his own release as your walls gripped and fluttered around him, but was determined not to finish until you were completely sated. 

Still trembling slightly from aftershocks, Ben slows his pace and leans into your ear. “Was that enough for you? Or do you want more?”

“More. More please, Sir,” you say with abandon. _Could you even take more? What did that even mean?_

“Such a dirty girl-- shit…” he says, pulling his still rigid cock out of you. “On your knees now. No, keep your wrists on the bed-- that’s it. Chest down like that, arch your back-- perfect. Yes, There you are.” 

From the shift in the mattress you can tell Ben has moved behind you. He smacks your ass hard and you moan in obvious pleasure. 

“Oh you like that, now. You should thank me, then. I’m going to do it again and you tell me ‘Thank you, Sir.’” The next slap comes even harder and you make a lewd noise you’d never even heard before. Ben waits. Says nothing. 

“Oh--! Thank you, Sir.” 

“Do you want another?” 

You gasp. “Yes. Yes, sir.” The next slap is on the other cheek and makes your pussy begin to drip again. _What was this man doing to you?_

“Thank you, sir…” you whisper. 

He rubs up and down your tingling ass with the palm of his hand. “You’re very welcome, little girl. You are being so, so good.” He kisses one slightly stinging cheek. You feel a shift in the bed and then his forearms wrap around both of your thighs spreading you open and pulling you down to the bed. Or, not the bed-- pulling you down to his face and placing your dripping pussy on his tongue. 

“Ohhh fuck…!” you cry out, pulling against your bind as his tongue thrusts into your center and the bridge of his nose moves against your clit. You scream openly into the mattress, climaxing nearly on contact. You couldn’t move much, as his tongue drank you in, so you just cry out and tremble, moving against his entire face, riding him through your peak and the aftershocks that follow; and then the surprising climax that follows it almost like an encore. His tongue is still making circles in your core as you finally come down, tasting your juices as they leak obscenely.

“Sir…” you call turning your head to the side. “I don’t think I can come anymore. You’re going to kill me…” 

Ben shifts from beneath you and you can hear him laughing softly. “I don’t think so.” He moves so he’s laying beside you as you lay prone on the bed, still gasping. “You’re doing just fine. Roll on your back. And open your mouth.” 

You moan at his words understanding his meaning, then lick your lips in anticipation before you even reposition yourself. Your hands are now raised over your head, your body covered in a sheen of glistening sweat. Ben gently moves the hair out of your face and straddles your chest, then tucks a pillow under your head. 

“Open now,” he says, and as you comply you feel the head of his cock on your lips.

He slides into your mouth inch by inch, not wanting to go too far, but you lean up into him, relaxing your throat to take him further. You hear his breath hitch and feel his cock twitch on your tongue. He begins to move in and out with slow strokes, reveling in the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. You suck him hard, working your tongue on the underside of his member, determined to bring him the same intense pleasure that he did for you. He begins to pump faster, now comfortable with what you can handle. You feel his palm against your cheek as he plunges his cock into your throat, just at your limit, and know that he's watching you. His breathing is loud and catches in his throat more than once, so you suck even harder to draw him even deeper, encouraging him. He pulls all the way out just to thrust fully back into your mouth again and again, forcing you to take loud gasping breaths in between, saliva leaking from your lips. On the next thrust you dart out your tongue to tease the sensitive head with your lips and tip of your tongue and he holds it there, allowing you to lavish it with attention. 

“Fuck… Just like that… “ he grips your hair at the root roughly and you can tell he was close. You lean forward to take more of him in your mouth then repeat the motion with the flat of your tongue when his comes suddenly and explosively, catching you both off guard. He tries to pull out, but you wrap your lips around him tightly and swallow hard, drawing out his pleasure, wanting him to finish completely in your mouth. His moan has an edge of astonishment as he pants, spent, leaving his cock inside just where you want him. 

Ben reaches down and pulls off the blindfold. Blinking to adjust to the evening light, you see that his face is flushed and his body is covered in a sheen of sweat. Then he maneuvers to release your bind from the hook in the headboard and loosens the belt buckle to free your wrists. Only when you are completely undone does he pull out of your mouth. You smile up at him and he finally collapses onto the bed laying down beside you, pulling you into the crook of his arm against his chest. 

Using the reach of his long arm, he grabs a glass of sparkling water from his side table and hands it to you, then one for himself. When you finish, he returns it, and pulls a thick comforter over you both. 

“How do you feel now?” he asks, holding you closely against him.

“Much better, daddy,” you reply. It was all you could manage to say. Your mind was completely blank and serene, your body rapidly hurdling toward sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter, but hope you all like it! 
> 
> Shout out to all my ladies w anxiety :x


	11. A Very Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut + fluff + plot! 
> 
> Something for everyone!

A warm delicious feeling pulls you out of sleep. As you gradually return to consciousness, you feel Ben's fingertip tracing small delicate circles around one nipple; then the other. By the time your eyes flutter open they both have stiffened into hard peaks and your body is instinctively arching into him. 

“Mmm… Ben…” you murmur as you slowly blink your eyes open.

“What a gorgeous way to wake up,” He answers in a gentle gravelly voice. “I could get used to hearing that in the morning,” he whispers into the skin of your neck before pressing a kiss into a sensitive spot that sends a chill through you. 

He was stunning from this angle: His loose hair fell over his face as he kissed your neck again, lower this time and drew some of the thin skin there between his teeth to nibble. It was going to leave a mark, but you were glad of it. You wanted more of them. You wanted the evidence of him on your body to be displayed. You wanted to wear it with distinction. 

He drew his head down again and lapped at one stiff nipple with his tongue, flickering it quickly causing you to whine before pressing down with his teeth until you cried out, ‘Ooo! Yellow…!” and he released you.. 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He left a soft butterfly kiss there, then looked up at you ruefully. “Got a bit carried away there. Glad you used your colors.”

You nod and draw his face up to yours to kiss him deeply, rolling onto your back and opening your legs so he can take his place between them. The pain from the bite had shocked all the nerves in your body awake and now you felt electrified. 

You place a flat hand on Ben’s hard chest and moan onto his lips just from feeling the statuesque muscle underneath. Drawing your hand down further, you feel the maze of muscles that formed his flat abdomen, and traced fingertips over the sharp ridgeline of his hip that curved into his pelvic bone. His skin was hot to the touch, and when you traced the points of your nails over it goosebumps rose in their wake; you smile as his breath catches. 

Finally you wrap gentle hands around his cock and feel it twitch and harden in your grip. 

“Mmm, Y/N…” he says into the shell of your ear before gently taking your earlobe between his teeth and pulling down to tease you. In response you tighten your grasp and begin to stroke him rapidly, rhythmically, generating a groan from deep in his chest.

“Do you want to fuck me again, daddy?” You ask. 

“God, yes,” says Ben, reaching for your calves and settling them on his shoulders, folding you in half completely. He shifts to his knees and positions himself in an instant, and before you can make any response plunges his full length into you all the way. You gasp, feeling every inch of him with no time to adjust and he begins to fuck into you with a wild abandon. Your walls stretch to accommodate him with urgency, growing more wet with every thrust. You had just demonstrated you knew how to set your limits using the colors; you suppose he felt there was no reason for him to continue holding back now. He’s moving so fast and so deep you can barely make any noise, the pleasure and intensity so all encompassing it seemed enough to just experience it. 

“This is _my_ pussy now,” he growls.

He angles himself higher over you, the backs of your knees now flat on the mattress on either side of your head, as he drives himself somehow deeper into your cunt. You are gasping for breath and beginning to tremble; you can feel every new stroke in the whole of your body. His hips snapping fiercely against your thighs make loud slaps, made lewder by the wet smack of the juices overflowing from your now dripping core. 

You roll your hips forward to meet his thrust once and his loud feral moan in response makes you feel triumphant. You do it again and feel a shiver roll through him. He pauses, losing his stroke for a moment, fighting back his release, then resumes to match your new cadence. 

“You’re so beautiful… and you just want to be my little slut don’t you?” Still too overcome with pleasure to speak, you nod vigorously. 

“ _Fuck—_ fuck…! I’m about to come. Take it all…” he rasps, convulsing with his orgasm and he explodes into your pussy, continuing to pump until every drop is released. He hangs his head down gasping, bracing himself on extended arms as you examine every cut and chisel of his biceps and forearms so close to your line of sight. 

Regaining a measure of composure. He flips his head up to look at you. He is so wickedly, impossibly sexy in this moment you have to bite down on your lower lip just looking at him. You feel your walls clench down hard against his cock still resting inside of you and notice by the narrowing of his eyes that he felt it too. 

“How are you like this?” He asks with a smile. 

“I don’t know what you do to me, Ben…” you answer honestly. 

He grips your legs and slides them down his body so they’re around his hips. 

“I don’t want to pull out of you,” he says leaning down to kiss your lips. “But I have to make the princess come today. It’s what she deserves.” 

He draws out of you slowly, and you both exhale at the moment of separation. Ben shifts down to kiss your inner thigh, then another spot an inch higher. He unwinds your legs from around him and spreads them wide open in front of his face. 

“What a mess,” he breathes, the moment before he licks up the length of your slit. He then adds the pressure of his tongue to your clit, moving in fast circles. You melt under his tongue and are calling for him and God in an instant. When he takes the entire bud into his mouth to suck it gently, lavishing it with attention, you break completely. Your legs involuntarily wrap around his head holding him in place with your thighs as you arch back and come against his face. You don’t release him until every aftershock of pleasure is complete and you feel halfway asleep again. 

When Ben resurfaces, he laughs gently at you, stroking your hip. “Back to bed?” 

“Yes, daddy,” you murmur. 

“Do you have a shift today?”

“No,” you breathe. “Not until tomorrow…” you’re nearly gone. 

“Ok, then. Get some rest.” 

***

The next time you wake, you’re alone in bed. It takes you a moment to reorient yourself, but the tenderness between your legs clarifies things. You smile to yourself. _How was this real life?!_

Sitting up, you notice the bedside clock says it’s almost noon. You hear a TV on downstairs- sounds like news— and smell coffee. Gradually you move to standing and grab the first soft large thing off the floor you find to pull on. It’s Ben's black sweater from yesterday. As you drape it over yourself you can smell him and you hug yourself a little. After a few minutes cleaning up in the bathroom you head downstairs. 

Ben’s wearing grey sweats and a classic white v-neck tshirt, sitting on a modern angular leather sofa, his legs extended onto a matching ottoman, laptop open while a newscaster drones on in the background. You pad forward on bare feet then drape your arms around his shoulders. 

“There she is,” he greets you. “I made coffee.” 

“What about breakfast?” 

“Cereal?” 

“I want to make us eggs, do you have any?” 

“As it happens I went to Trader Joe’s earlier this week. You’re in luck.” He smiles at you and you melt. Hard to believe that was only Monday. 

“Ok, well that’s enough for brunch.” 

You are about to turn and see what kind of kitchen set up he even had to work with when he adds casually over his shoulder: “Your phones been going off like crazy. You may want to check it.” 

_Oh no._ You hadn’t looked at your phone since you got to Ben’s the evening before. You had never even brought your bag upstairs. 

You walk over and grab it, groaning softly, dreading being pulled out of your sex-haze back to the normal world. You start on the series of messages from James, he was probably worried. 

1:35pm

_So new bae picks you up at the coffeeshop before my shift starts and everyone gets to see him but ME? WTF is that_

4:03pm

_Poe was asking a lot of Qs about you btw, what’s that about 👀_

9:12pm

_I’m assuming you’re not coming home then?_

9:34pm

_Fine I’m going to Marcos. LOOK AT US— THRIVING UNDER ADVERSITY. Love you, be safe have fun_

10:23pm

_Wait bitch are you dead? Why aren’t you answering me?_

12:41am

_If you’re dead I swear to ducking GOD_

12:42am

_*fucking_

9:56am

_If I don’t hear from you by noon I’m telling Mels and you know her resourceful ass will find you_

_10:02am_

_We won’t call the cops because ACAB but I’ll show up at the fire department w your photo and last known location ready for action_

You let out a laugh despite yourself and then notice it was exactly noon. 

12:01pm

_CALM DOWN IM WITH BEN. Love you though._

12:02

_ & hiiiii Marco! Xoxo _

  
  


“Everything OK?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, James was just checking in on me. I forgot to tell him I wouldn’t be home.” 

He nods and you begin to head over to the fridge to see what else you could pull together for a meal. 

“You should tell him to be careful with Marco.” 

You stop in your tracks. “What?”

Ben turns and looks at you defensively. “I didn’t want to say anything! I know you don’t like me— researching- but… I just know you two are close, so I thought I should tell you.” 

“Why would you be looking into Marco?”

“It’s important to know who you surround yourself with. For the _group_ \-- I mean! I wouldn’t do it just like, for _us_ , that wouldn’t be… “ 

You had never seen Ben this uncomfortable before and you were a bit fascinated watching him at a loss for words. He was obviously trying not to set you off. His bumbling explanations, however, worked to blunt your anger.

“Well… “ you consider for a long moment. “Keep an eye on Marco. I don't want James hurt.” 

Ben looks relieved. “Ok, I will.” 

Thankfully, you were able to find what you needed to make a proper breakfast: scrambled eggs, wheat bread for toast and some berries for a simple fruit salad. When Ben came to the table you had set on the terrace outside he seemed more than impressed— touched; maybe even a bit emotional. You wondered when was the last time someone had made him a meal. 

The rest of the day is spent in comfortable leisure as you lounge close to each other, never more than an arms length away. He settles in with his laptop while you’re mostly on your phone. You didn’t ask what he was doing, but every few hours a new post from Anonymous shows up on your Twitter feed and you feel a rush of pride every time. Not only were you fucking the public personification of Anonymous, you were currently sexed-out, relaxing in his penthouse, wearing his clothing as a coverup; and the notorious internationally reknown hacker collective also included you now. 

Eventually you pull out your borrowed secure laptop and decide to try Ben's writing advice from the day before. He had drafted an outline of your email to the firm, so all you had to do was formalize it and make it sound like it came from your own voice. When it looks good to you, you call out to him:

“Ben— take a look at this and let me know if it works?” You hand the laptop up from your perch on the floor where you’d been sitting on a knobby woven rug, your back against the sofa where he sat. You had written:

> Dear Mr. Hux,
> 
> I hope this message finds you well. Although I am disappointed to not work with your firm this summer, I would like to discuss any opportunities that may be available in the fall. If at all possible, I would be grateful for the opportunity to speak with some of the firm's lawyers about their experience working with multinational corporations and transnational corporate law. I have attached an updated resume for your convenience.
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Y/N

“Ohhh… Y/N!” Ben leans forward and wraps his arms tightly around you, then dramatically pulls you up so you’re sitting next to him.

“Fucking perfect! You’re adding an attachment?! We’ll just run a program off of that! When they download it they’ll download our scanning software-- we can get EVERYTHING. This is fucking brilliant!” 

He pulls you into a sloppy excited kiss. “Fuck!” He yells excitedly. “I knew you’d be good at this!” 

“I…” you are blushing under his praise and excitement, but the thought of sending a spyware program through your resume had never even occurred to you. It had only been an attempt at hyper formality and professional courtesy. Whatever. Ben didn’t need to know that. You decide to take the compliment and don’t protest. 

He kisses you again then stands up. “Where’s my phone? I have to call Rose. We need to get our engineers started on the encryption.” Ben starts pacing around trying to find it.

“I think you left it outside!” You call. He walks to the roof and the next thing you hear is him on the phone talking excitedly. You guess it was probably Rose on the other end. You’re not eavesdropping per se, but you do smile when you hear him say: 

“Yeah. It’s her first assignment too…” 

At that your heart flutters and you tuck your knees to your chest, pulling the length of his sweater over you, grinning to yourself. You inhale deeply seeking the lingering woodsy scent trapped in the fabric. It still calms the nerves in your stomach even though they weren’t bad ones this time. 

You were in heavy infatuation now, and if you were honest with yourself— quickly careening into something much deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::sigh:: sounds like a good time


	12. MISSION READY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T-1 day to launch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey— Poe’s here! Poe says F*CK ICE!

It took the Anonymous engineers 8 days to build a custom program for your mission. While you didn’t understand exactly how it worked, you knew that the software would scan the device of whoever downloaded it and send the data back in real time. At the very least it would give Anonymous info on what kind of telework systems the firm was using and the internal filing system they had during work from home, so from there they could build a custom code to hack it. 

Rose was optimistic, however, that their remote system was inferior tech to their in-office secured servers, and that the Anonymous program attached to your resume would be able to infiltrate their remote drives and transfer files immediately back to the group. 

Rule #3 of Anonymous is collaboration. When the program was ready, Rose took another week to organize a taskforce of global Anonymous operatives that would be on call in case her hypothesis was correct and the software sent documents back instantly. The task force was composed of operatives fluent in multiple languages who were prepared to start reading and sorting documents the moment they became available. 

After Rose went over the plan with you— which you had considered merely a courtesy because you were taking the first step in the mission— she asked you to join her team. You agree, shocked and beyond flattered. By joining the taskforce you understand now that you are more than just a convenient way into a potentially corrupt organization. Rose was proactively bringing you further into the group because she thought you could add real value-- not just because of Ben’s influence. Her trust in your abilities boosts your confidence as the mission launch date approaches. 

Many times while you are in the Anonymous HQ discussing strategy with Rose, and once at his place while you drafted more introductory emails to lawyers in the firm, you felt Ben’s eyes on you filled with an emotion that you could not quite place. Each time it made you feel warm in your stomach and pulled at your heart. Each time your mind screamed back-- _STOP THAT! BE CAREFUL!_ Per usual, you ignored the warnings. This was your life now, come what may. 

You never went more than two days without seeing Ben, even if he just came by the coffeeshop to get a drink and flirt with you for a little while. The two of you had established a good flow between you that felt thrilling but with the beginning of something real. You tried not to think too deeply about how you felt about him because if you were honest you knew the answer; but it was way too soon for that-- _right_? A hopeful part of you was confident that he felt the same, drawn from the way he pulled you close to him in bed on the nights you spent together. Or his habit of absentmindedly reaching out for you when you were nearby, just to place a hand on your shoulder or calf, or tuck a length of hair behind your ear. Regardless, you refused to name it. It was ridiculous to be in love with someone in just over a month. Wasn’t it? In any case, Ben continued to be an overall sweetheart plus wild and generous in bed. He was relentless in his quest to make you come. He wanted you vocal and loud. He wanted you exhausted and quick to sleep by the time he let you go. 

  
  


The day before your mission goes live, your body practically vibrates with nervous tension from the time you wake up. During your shift at the coffee shop-- where you are no longer in training!-- you message with Rose and Ben on Signal between customers constantly. Their confidence in the plan was reassuring, but despite the frequent pings of support you still keep patting your hand on your thigh or tapping fingers on the countertops. Whenever you hear the bell above the door jingle when a customer comes in you startle with a little jump. 

The city now allowed for outside dining at your cafe patio which was a nice return to normalcy, although masks were still required for staff and customers. An hour before the end of your shift Ben came in. You smile when you see him and feel instantly calmed. Knowing you were a bit of a mess today, he had obviously come to check on you in person. He orders his usual from Poe at the register, and you pour his drink before he heads out to the small sidewalk patio to work on his laptop in the sun-- using his own devices for wifi and enhanced security of course. You can’t help but to watch him from behind the coffeebar. His hair was pulled back into a small manbun, a black crew neck tshirt hugging every peak and valley on the muscles of his arms and back that moved enticingly even as he coded. 

“Hello, hi!” calls James, emerging from the back room and breaking you out of your reverie. 

“Sorry!” you reply and turn to help him. “What do you need?” 

“I mean, nothing, no one is here. But you can’t just stare at your boyfriend all day even though he’s hot. Like— we get it.” 

“He’s just alright,” says Poe, looking over his shoulder to you with a teasing smile. 

“Ok, stop! Both of you.” You reply blushing now. 

James turns to Poe, “Honestly, after quarantining with Y/N for almost 4 months I need something in writing. For tax and legal reasons, I think we should now be in an open asexual common law marriage.”

“100% down if you do my taxes,” you quip back.

“Wait! How do you get to be the sugar baby?” 

“You have seniority over me at work! That makes you daddy!” 

“Well, Poe’s the only one of us allowed to touch the register, so that probably makes _him_ daddy…” James laughs, but Poe arches his eyebrows in your direction and gives you a _look_. That was absolutely the last thing your heightened nerves needed. 

“Ok, I’m taking a break!” you announce with a smile. “Continue to gossip and conspire without me for the next 15 minutes.”

You head out to the patio intending to spend a few minutes with Ben. You had told James you had met Ben at the coffeeshop which checked out, because Danielle _definitely_ remembered him coming in. Then you said you’d reconnected with him online, which was not a lie entirely! You could tell James knew there was more going on than what you were saying, but he graciously didn’t push you too hard for details. As far as he was concerned, you were happy and Ben being around had fun perks for him too, like surprising bounties of SF’s fanciest delivery meals. 

Poe has continued to be flirty with you at work but it was obvious that he was falling back a bit in an attempt to be respectful of your relationship. Despite that, he would always let a comment slide here or there to let you know that he was still an option. You learn from Danielle that Poe is somewhat renown in the local Resistance movement. He is a protest leader for a diverse coalition of activist groups that had developed a network rallying against ICE, raising money for [ RAICES ](https://www.raicestexas.org/ways-to-give/donate/) and organizing a constant series of protest actions in the Bay Area since 2016. It was impressive, and you wanted to tell him that you were also deeply involved with the movement— an Anonymous anti-dictator operative even! But of course you held your tongue. 

Outside you take a seat to Ben’s left and immediately he places a hand on your neck to pull you in for a kiss., then gives your shoulder a squeeze. 

“You seem tense.”

“I am… It's all really happening.”

“Well, all you have to do is send an email. And you wrote that weeks ago, so you’re just hitting send.” He says reassuringly. 

“True… but I know everything that’s happening now! Rose has a whole collective waiting, based on something I’m starting…” 

Ben turns to look at you squarely in the eyes. “You should be proud.” He takes one of your hands between both of his and you feel a calm rush run through you. “I know I’m proud of you. Rose asked you to join her team; that’s big. It’s because she believes in you. I didn’t have anything to do with it. You’re … impressive.” He finishes there. 

All you can do is squeeze his hand and look up at him. “Thank you,” you say finally. And then kiss him, maybe a touch more than you should have while still at work. “I have an hour left on my shift…” 

“That’s fine. I’ll wait here. Want to go for a drive?”

“Sure.”

When your shift ends, Ben takes you out of the city, down the coastline to the beach at Half Moon Bay. He lays out a blanket on the sand while you set out some bottled drinks and snacks you’d picked up from the cafe on your way out. You lean back into his broad chest to watch the waves crash and allow for his calm confidence to flow into you. Maybe you _should_ just feel proud. 

Desperate to stop thinking about your own situation, you ask, “So what about what you’re working on? How’s it going?” You ask. 

He shifts to look down at you, then reaches into the carton of fruit you’re holding up and pops a grape into his mouth. 

“We doxxed a bunch of KKK members this morning. There’s so many more than you would like to believe. It’s fucked up.” He says with a sigh. 

“And released the information on the cops in Atlanta that killed that man at Wendy’s. The police department was trying to keep secret. Cowards. Never wanting to accept responsibility.” 

Discussing the topic seemed to rile Ben up, and he pulls you closer to him as a sense of comfort. 

“I’m working on something bigger though. Something that may really move the needle here in the US. I actually may have to go to Seattle for a few days.”

“Really?” Your heart sank. You were almost embarrassed at how much your whole body rebelled against that thought. Ben notices and begins to stroke your hair. 

“Yeah. Hopefully not for that long. The team that leads our anti-Trump work on the west coast is based there. What we need to coordinate is probably not safe to do over the phone. Or even Signal. We need to work together on this one.” 

You are pouting despite yourself. “But my mission is about to start…” 

“Rose is leading that though. Don’t you trust her?” 

“Yes. But… “ you reach out and thread the fingers of both your hands around one of his large ones. “I just imagined you’d be here too. I don’t know what this will be like.” 

“No one does. That’s what makes it exciting,” he smiles down at you and kisses your temple. “You’ll be in good hands and I’ll be back soon.”

“When are you leaving?” 

“Not until after your launch. I promise.” He turns your head to face him and kisses you, melting your resistance. 

“Think I can calm you down right here? Think anyone would know?” He whispers in a low baritone into the shell of your ear. 

“I honestly don't care,” you whisper. “I love when you calm me down…”

He smirks. “I know you do…” he takes a nipple between two of his fingers and squeezes, then the other as your arch into him. 

“You have to be quiet. Which I know doesn’t come naturally to you.” 

You blush and laugh at his words, nodding as he unbuttons your jeans and slides a hand into them and under your panties. 

“Mmm,” you moan, merely at the sensation of his hands on your bare skin. 

“Shhh… you can’t be any louder than that we’re outside, Y/N,” he mockingly scolds you. 

“Yes, sir,” you reply, rolling your hips forward just as he slides two fingers into your pussy, already wet and eager for him. You lean your head into the crook of his neck while he fingers you, whispering a litany of obscene things. 

At first you bite your lip to stifle the sounds you are desperate to make. It’s not enough, so you turn your face into his neck and moan directly into his skin. That triggers a groan from Ben, which you want to tease him about for breaking his own rule, but his thumb begins to add pressure to your clit. In a desperate attempt to not moan even louder, you bite into the skin pressed against your lips. 

“Fuck..!” He says. You continue to nibble the spot, the movement helping you ride through the waves of pleasure in relative quiet. It was going to mark him. You smile to yourself that when he showed up in Seattle he’d have a brand from you on display. Ben knew you were close. Your pussy was flooding now, clenching around his fingers. 

“God, I want my cock inside you… I would get a room down here, but you need to complete your mission tomorrow… on secure servers… _fuck_! You’re about to come. You have to stay this wet for me all the way home. I’m going to make you come here and then— when I get you home— you’re going to have to pay for making me wait…” 

“Fuck… Sir…” you whisper, your breath hitching in the last word as you begin to tremble from the inside out. You reach out to grab into him— his neck, his shoulder as your ride out your peak in silence. 

“Go on… keep coming…” he growls. “I’m not going to stop… until you give me two. I know how you are…” 

Unable to respond with your voice, holding so much inside, your only release is through your body shaking against him and then as your second climax builds tears welling in your lashes. 

“I knew it… there pretty girl. Come on… one more…” 

“Ah—!” Escapes your lips, unable to hold it in any longer. But he swallows the rest of your cry with his mouth on yours, 

Ben doesn’t draw back until you are finished completely, then slides his hand out and fastens your jeans. He leans you both down onto the blanket. The sun is setting now and a cold breeze is sweeping the beach. 

“I’m going to miss you when I’m away.” He says. 

“I’m going to miss you too.” 

You stay there not speaking until the sun fully retreats and twilight settles on the beach.


	13. MISSION LAUNCH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just did a good thing, I don't regret this thing at all... ;)

It really felt like there should be more to it than this. But when the time came — exactly 8:15am — you attach your encrypted resume to the email for Hux and hit send. You are sitting in Ben’s bed with one of his shirts draped over you, a cup of hot coffee that he’d made cooling on the nightstand. When it’s done you check your sent messages just to make sure it went though-- it had. Then you make a low anxious noise, close your eyes, slam the laptop shut and dive back under the covers. 

“Whoa, what’s all this?” Ben laughs at you, then joins you under the sheets. 

“I— I can’t believe I just did that.” 

“I know. You're so brave,” Ben encourages you, drawing you close to him. “The group is going to take it from here. You’ve done the main part. As long as he opens the attachment the mission is a success.” He holds you close to him for a while, until you feel your heartbeat return to a normal pace. 

“Well, it’s done now. You’ve corrupted me.”

  
“I _recruited_ you. There’s a difference,” he smiles as he nuzzles into your neck. “I should be commended for recognizing your many talents…” 

“Mmhmm…” you reply, kissing him gently. Your mind is still reeling. As of this morning, you were a legitimate Anonymous operative. You weren’t merely affiliated. Or an accessory. You had just launched a spyware hack on a powerful and potentially corrupt international law firm. 

“I’m afraid I have to leave today,” he says, pulling you out of introspection. 

“What? Already?!” 

“I shouldn’t fly to Seattle, for a number of reasons. So I’m going to need to drive. It’s a long trip.” 

“Oh…” 

“I was hoping that after last night you’d still be relaxed enough to fall back asleep after you launched the mission…” he trails a hand up your body. 

You raise your eyebrows and bite your lip remembering. Always a man of his word, when you had made it to his place from the beach Ben had pushed you against the wall of his private elevator as soon as it began to ascend. Your clothes were nearly off by the time it reached his loft. When the elevator stopped and opened to his space, he didn't move to enter. Instead, he had pulled down your jeans and panties in one motion, lifted you until you wrapped your legs around him and the next moment started to pound into you against the wall fast and hard, using your body completely for his own pleasure. The urgency and intensity was uncharacteristic of him, but you had fucking loved it. 

You blush remembering what he panted into your ear as he thrusts deeper and faster. “This isn’t about you, it's about me. It's about what I need … since i couldn't have you when I wanted you.. Oh-- you are going to take it… ugh!… and be grateful. Are you grateful?”

“Yes, Daddy…” you had sighed. 

As the memory fades, you sigh again now. Shifting your legs, you still feel a delicious tenderness between them. 

“Well if you’re leaving soon, I guess you can drive me home.” 

“Oh, I didn't mean to kick you out. You are welcome to go back to bed, stay here while I’m away,” he says stroking your hair, That was generous, but you didn’t love the idea of being alone in this huge space. Without him here, it would seem too empty, Also, you are aware that you had been in a boyfriend bubble the past few weeks. Ben being out of town for a bit would be a good time to reconnect with your friends.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go home. But I’m taking this shirt with me,” he smiles at your compromise and pulls back the covers. 

“Alright, well let’s get you home. If I start driving now I might make it halfway by this evening.” 

You get dressed quickly, wearing his shirt and yesterday’s jeans, which you find balled into a corner of the elevator. As Ben packs his last few items into a duffle bag, you pull out the Anonymous laptop again and check your email. It’s now 9am. No response. You stare at your inbox with impatience. Now that you had sent the message you wanted the action to begin! But there was no way to compel Hux to respond to you immediately. 

Disappointed, you close the laptop when Ben comes downstairs ready to leave. You lean into his body as you make it to the car, realizing that you won’t be able to rely on his unaffected confidence to pull you through the next few days. 

“How long will you be gone again?” you ask from the passenger seat of the Tesla. 

“Hard to say, exactly. Maybe a week?” he glances over at you. “Are you upset?”

“I’m not _upset_ ,” you retort. Not wanting to seem clingy. “Just… asking.”

“Well, you know how to reach me. And I can call you. But I’m going to do it with secure software since I’m on a mission, so it won’t be from my regular number.”

“Ok.” You remain quiet, playing with your hands in your lap. After some time Ben reaches over and covers them with his, giving them a squeeze. 

“What happens if they find out? Like, if they realize that my resume has spyware?”

“They won’t.” Ben responds cooly. 

You turn to give him a sharp look. 

“They won’t! Look, if anything happens we have a security protocol in place. Rose knows it. I know it. We’ll implement it. The group takes over from here. If Hux wants to continue to have a conversation then humor him, you may be able to get additional context that is helpful. Maybe more about the structure of their organization. Or their leadership. Try to learn who the power players are and who is just on the sidelines but not really culpable in what they're doing. That’s an important distinction, by the way. But you don’t have to worry about that now,” he says, giving your hand another squeeze. 

He had just pulled up in front of your place. You lean back into your seat and look over at him. His hair was pulled half back and he had a new black sweater on today, this one was a summer-weight black cashmere. He reaches across the center console to cup your face, then leans you forward so he can kiss you slowly and deeply. 

“You did great today. Just try to relax. We’ve got it from here, OK?” You nod. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

“Kiss me again,” you whisper. He does and smiles as you pull back. 

“See? Now I don’t want to leave.”

“No, you have to go save the world…” you say, reaching for the door handle. 

“Well, at least expose the American political class for the fraud that it is,”

“Exactly,” you say stepping out of the car and grabbing your bag. “I can’t keep you from that. Drive safe. I'll miss you.” 

With that you close the door and walk into your building. The ache between your legs throbbing as you walked down the long hallways to your apartment. Your head swirling. You are still in a state of shock by what you’d done and curious as to what Ben was really up to. 

***

Hours later you get a message from Ben on Signal. 

_Check out the SFPD + Mayor’s press conference-- its on now_

You were making a basic lunch when you received that bizarre suggestion, but you take out the laptop and navigate to the live stream. You write back: 

_This press conference was just announced like a minute ago. How did you know this was coming?_

_I know a lot of things :)_

_You’re monitoring the SFPD?_

_Obviously._

You laugh to yourself. _And the Mayor’s office?_

_For good measure._

You roll your eyes. Honestly, who knows what he was really doing. **Red flag!** screams the part of your brain you are now in a habit of dismissing completely. 

Just then James walks in, home from a shift at the coffee shop. Peeking at your laptop he asks with alarm, “What are you watching?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s going to be something interesting.” 

He scoops up Thomas and walks over to you in the kitchen. “Ooo can you make me one of those? Thanks. What is this? Ugh, I can't believe you want to watch cops talk right now.”

“No! I think they're making an announcement. Something big. I want to see if they’re reforming.”

The press conference begins and details the following [ update ](https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2020-06-12/san-francisco-police-reforms-stop-response-noncriminal-calls):

> San Francisco police officers will be replaced with trained, unarmed professionals to respond to calls for help on noncriminal matters involving mental health, the homeless, school discipline and neighbor disputes, as part of a new wave of police reforms. The plan is similar to the CAHOOTS program in Eugene, Ore., where a medic and a mental health crisis manager respond to emergency calls for help with individuals suffering from severe mental illness, addiction and homelessness. The mobile crisis intervention unit also performs welfare checks and works with nonprofits to offer suicide intervention and prevention.
> 
> Mayor Breed announces that she has directed the San Francisco Police Department to establish an “explicit” policy to ban the use of military-grade weapons against unarmed civilians. The department would not be allowed to use chemical weapons, such as tear gas, bayonets or tanks and would have to get rid of such weapons by the end of 2021.
> 
> Starting immediately, the city’s Department of Human Resources will audit hiring and promotional exams by the Police Department and San Francisco Sheriff‘s Department and incorporate testing for bias and potential for abuse of force, 
> 
> “For too long, black people have been subjected to violence at the hands of people in power,” Breed said. “Now is the time when we can make sure that these demonstrations that we see are translated into real action.”

“WHAT?!” yells James. “We’re defunding the police?! And banning military weapons?! It’s all fucking working! I can’t believe it. That’s it, We’re celebrating bitch. Wrap up those sandwiches we’re taking them to go.”

“Go _where_ James, the city is still on partial lockdown.” 

“I don’t care! I’m texting Mels and Kiana. Let’s go to Golden Gate Park. We can celebrate in socially distant style outdoors. It’s nice today. And we’re bringing wine! The good shit, grab those bottles my aunt gave us.” 

James continues to bark festive orders in your direction for the next 25 minutes but you have no complaints. He was right-- the protesting had worked! And while SF wasn’t the entire country, it was a meaningful step. If everything went well, it could be a model for other cities to follow suit. It was definitely something to celebrate. 

Additionally, you glow inside knowing that you’d had a bit of a tip off. It was nice to think that when Ben realized what was going to happen he wanted you to be among the first to know. You write back to him on Signal: 

_We did it! ACAB!!! Thanks for the heads up._

_Thought you would like that :) Any action in your inbox?_

Shoot, you had forgotten about your mission. As James gathers the last of your picnic things you run to your room for the Anonymous laptop and check your email. Still nothing. 

_No :(_

_It’s OK, it’s still early. You should celebrate._

_Oh I am-- James has it covered._

_Good. I should stop texting and driving. I’ll call later._

It takes you and James about 30 minutes to walk to the park and find a nice spot in a park meadow. You arrange a series of blankets in a circle and pile snacks and drinks in the center. It is an unseasonably warm day in SF with sunshine and clear blue skies, more reminiscent of LA than the Bay Area. Kiana arrives first, having stopped at the Fatted Calf to splurge on a haul of artisan meats and cheeses. Mels arrives shortly thereafter with a variety of edibles. So it was officially a party. 

“Sooo what’s new in the James- Y/N home?” asks Mels. “I can’t believe your aunt lets you guys live there at 1990’s rent prices. I should move into your closet.” 

“To be honest, you can probably have a whole room! Y/N is barely home these days since she picked up a man in quarantine,” James starts, pouring himself a drink. “One day he practically kidnapped her from the coffeeshop and I didnt see her for 3 days.”

“James it was like 48 hours tops.”

“Fucking STILL!” 

“Anyway, you have a new boy yourself,” you reply, topping off your drink, trying to pivot the subject. You hoped that once he started talking about Marco the group could move off the subject of Ben. While your relationship certainly wasn’t a secret, it still seemed like the less you disclosed the better.

Kiana jumps in: “No, no! We know all about Marco. Y/N, who is this guy? It’s not Anonymous is it?”

You choke dramatically on your sip of rosé. You try to play it off as if you had been caught in a laugh, embarrassed and coughing as James pats your back. She had to have just been teasing you-- _right_?!

“If it _was_ I certainly wouldn't tell you,” you respond, hoping it sounded playful and not too much like the truth. 

Kiana’s question brought James’ attention back to the subject of Ben. “In summary: He drives a Tesla so we all know he’s rich. He’s tall and handsome as hell. What else is there to know? You did good, girl.” James gives you a head nod and you accept it. 

“Well, yeah that’s the overview. I kept seeing him at the coffee shop and then one day he talked to me. That’s all.” That was _mostly_ all. 60% true, which Rose had told you was a good foundation for a strong lie. 

“Ooo-- I bet Anonymous is _pissed_ then,” Mels jumps in, pouring herself another drink all the way to the rim of the cup. “You sent him some nudes and then left him on read…?” 

“He’s probably DEVASTATED!” adds Kiana, laughing at you. 

“You left a leader of the Resistance on read? Tsk tsk… Girl, he’s going to come and find you!” says James, piling on. 

_He already did that,_ you think to yourself.

“He’d have to get through Mr. Solo first… ” you reply with a wicked smile. Your friends practically hoot in response. 

“GOD it feels so good to be outside! With PEOPLE!” yells James, suddenly. 

“Cheers to that!” Mels adds. Although you’re all sitting on different blankets you lift your glasses to toast symbolically. “Ooo I brought edibles!” she adds. 

Your friends dig into her bounty of buzzy treats, but you decline. You are still on-call for your assignment and want to be sharp in case anything breaks tonight. Regardless, you are happy to lean back into the blanket as your friends drift off into lazy, happy bliss. 

***

You make it home with a high and giggly James by 8pm but you still didn’t have any updates from Rose or Hux. Borderline drunk yourself, you head to your room for a long hot shower. Just as you wrap yourself in towels and climb on your bed your phone begins to ring. It’s a strange number with lots of 0s that is frankly unsettling, but then you remember that Ben said he’d be calling you from something more secure than his phone so you answer. 

“Hey, where are you now?”

“Eugene, Oregon. It’s pretty. Lots of trees. What are you doing?”

“Laying in bed.”

“Thinking of me?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “You’ve got me spoiled… I’m used to coming almost every day but now you’re gone.”

“Mmm well, I know you’re good at touching yourself--”

“But I want _you_ to do it, daddy…”

“ _Fuck…_ Are you trying to get me to turn around? Because if you say anymore shit like that I might.” You bite your lip feeling victorious. 

“No… I know you have to bring down the system…” you say in a whine. 

“Hmm. Well. Why don’t you try to get yourself off? I’ll stay on the phone with you.”

“Ok, Sir…” You begin to touch yourself, being sure to make pretty noises for him through the phone. He says dirty things back, urging you along. When you come minutes later you feel flushed but it was no replacement for him. 

“Put your fingers in your mouth now.” 

“Yes, Sir…”

You are enjoying his extension of your game when your phone buzzes. It's a notification from Signal. Since you're on the phone with Ben, it has to be Rose. 

“What does it taste like?” Ben asks in his low gruffy voice but your mind has been moved to another place entirely. 

“Wait, Ben--” you respond in an urgent tone. 

You open your Signal app. It was a message from Rose, you were right. 

“What? What's going on? Are you done? I had something else in mind you could do…”

“No, Ben-- it's Rose, hold on I’m trying to read…”

“Oh! What did she say?”

You open her message: 

_He downloaded the file. The program is running now._

“Y/N-- what did she say?”

“He downloaded the file, my resume. The program is running now.”

“That’s great. Is it able to transfer the files from his device?”

“I don’t know I’m waiting for Rose to--” 

**PING**! Another message. 

_We’re in. Files are transferring._

_Activating global teams now. Be prepared to begin review in an hour._

“Fuck, Ben.” you gasp. 

“WHAT?!”

“The program is able to pull the files. Rose is activating the global doc review team. It fucking worked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s on, bitch.


	14. Seattle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo fights cops. ::WHEW:: I DIE

The first tear gas canister lands about twenty feet to Ben’s right. He watches the gas billow up and into a line of press that had been reporting on the protests in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. He only had a moment to marvel that the U.S. police were really gassing journalists before he spotted another tear gas canister arching overhead. Ben runs to it with long quick strides, and just as it touches the pavement scoops it up with his gloved hands and throws it in an undulating curve back across the riot police line. 

“COWARDS!” Ben yells through the intersection, rapidly filling with an armored militia. One of the riot police catches his eye, and starts to move towards him wielding a head-to-knee plexiglass shield and a thick black wooden baton. 

“Ben! Fall back!” calls out Vicrul, moments before his arm wraps around his chest and pulls him into the large crowd of protesters. Caught off guard, Vicrul is able to drag Ben back before a flashbang bomb hits the street just where he had been standing. It goes off a second later with an electric orange combustion that looks almost cartoonish. The sound reverberating from the explosion is deafening and hits Ben with a physical jolt.

The crowd is shuffling back from the encroaching police line, but also criss-crossing the street dodging projectiles and trying to get the injured to the medics. 

“Did we lose Cardo and Ap’lek?” Ben yells at Vicrul. 

“Ap’lek got hit, I think by a rubber bullet.” he replies, huffing from the tear gas in the air despite the bandana wrapped around his lower face. “Cardo’s with him.” 

“Fuck these motherfuckers!” yells Ben. “The march has been peaceful! It’s still 20 minutes to curfew, what the hell are they doing?!” 

Another flashbang lands about 6 feet to the left. Ben and Vicrul dash away from it trying to spare another direct hit to their ears. It explodes with the same intensity as the first and makes Ben’s head ache again. Another teargas canister descends next, landing 3 feet ahead and detonating on impact into a cloud of gas that stings Ben’s eyes and skin immediately on contact. 

Vicrul grabs his arm and turns sharply to the right, directing him over the sidewalk and into the park through a cluster of dense trees until the gas clouds thin and the air can enter his lungs without fiery pain. They both cough for a time, but Vicrul waves over at Ben to continue walking deeper into the park until they reach a clearing where two large tents have been erected. One of them has a table lined with canteens of water and multi-gallon jugs of milky white anti-tear gas solution. The other tent is surrounded by protestors laying down or kneeling inside and around it while a team of medical volunteers treat injuries. It was quiet enough in the clearing to allow for the ringing in Ben’s ears to slowly subside. 

“It’s been like this for WEEKS,” says Vicrul, walking to the first table and kneeling. Vicrul was Ben’s height with medium brown skin and black hair that was usually closely cropped with clean edges, but had grown into a low afro during quarantine. As he rips off his face coverings, a volunteer immediately rushes to him and begins to pour the white liquid over his face. 

Although he had been closely tracking the protests in Seattle and had been in regular communication with the team here, seeing it all live was still shocking. How had this become normal so quickly? He was not surprised by the quick adaptation to the moment by his friends, who had all been active in global leftist movements for years and were well versed in aggressive resistance tactics which they had all studied in college. But the response of the community in Seattle as a whole had impressed him. The protesters out tonight had been young and old; racially diverse; fighting for black lives but also the rights of the LGBTQ community and the dignity and acceptance of immigrants. Earlier in the afternoon the protest had included families with children. 

The calm oasis they were standing in now reminded Ben of the medic and supply tents his mother used to organize for resistance groups as part of her global conflict work. It infuriated Ben to see this level of war-time strategy deployed in the US to support citizens simply demanding justice from the police department sworn to protect them. 

It was only after this moment of reflection that Ben noticed his own eyes were burning. As Vicrul rises to his feet, Ben takes his place kneeling, and the medic pours the same liquid over him. It is instantly soothing, triggering a deep exhale of relief. Shaking his head, Ben stands and shuffles over to Vicrul where Cardo has joined him. 

“Here-- you need to rinse it with water after that to make sure it's all out,” Cardo says, handing him a canteen. His face was covered completely by an elaborate airsoft mask and Ben only recognized him from his voice. 

“Thanks,” says Ben, pouring cold water over his face and blinking rapidly. “Jesus. I just got in this afternoon.” 

“Yeah, well-- welcome to the Field Team.” Cardo flips his mask up so it rests in his shaggy blond hair, longer now than Ben had ever seen it, and pats him on the back. It was good to see him. 

“Did Ap’lek get shot?”

“Yeah. Rubber bullet. It’s bleeding but no bones are broken. He’ll be back out here tomorrow, just with a bruise and really fucking pissed off,” Cardo reports, looking over his shoulder to where Ap’lek lay in the grass being bandaged by a volunteer. Ap’lek was slightly taller than even Ben, and had bound his long dreadlocks away from his face. He was also wearing full tactical gear like Cardo, and had slid his mask up so he could smile at the medic watching over him, his obvious flirtation noticeable even from a distance. Ben had to suppress a laugh. 

“Ready to get back out there?” Vicrul asks with a grin, shaking his head vigorously to shed the remaining water from his face. His eyes were bloodshot but otherwise he seemed no worse for wear. 

“Is that how this works?” Ben replies, retying the bandanna around his face tightly leaving only his eyes exposed. 

“Yeah. We’re not letting those bastards defeat us. Here-- This medic just handed me some tear gas solutions in a travel bottle. Now we don’t have to come back here every time.” He hands one to Ben and holds another out for Cardo. 

“Cardo! Make sure you grab those umbrellas! We’re going to try to hold the line against the tear gas with a barricade!” 

Cardo grabs three umbrellas from a pile near a tent and turns to Ben, “We got this tactic from the protesters in Hong Kong. Global solidarity.” 

“I hear that. You sure Ap’lek’s OK?”

“Yeah, he’s down for the night but someone from the group is taking him home.” 

“Or the medic,” quips Vicrul with a look over his shoulder and you all laugh. “Let’s go!”

Vicrul gestures at you both then turns to jog back to the street. Cardo follows close behind starting a chant that those around him begin to pick up and repeat. 

Ben turns to thank the nurse who gave them all the supplies and then does a double take and smiles, Of course she was here. 

“Thanks for this, Mom.” 

“It’s good to see you’re back in town. Go get ‘em.” she smiles, gives him a quick hug and shoos Ben off back into the fight.

*** 

Ben woke up in his childhood bedroom the next morning with an aching head. Rolling on his side, he sees a large carafe of cool water, a gatorade and a bottle of Advil on the nightstand. His mother was not a stranger to resistance movements and always seemed to know what to do to keep up the spirits of the troops.

He finished the Gatorade in one long pull, took two Advil and began on the water. Checking his phone he saw that Y/N had sent him some nice messages and a photo the night before. He responds with a goofy smile on his face; she was really something else. He didn’t mention the protest the night before because he wasn’t sure how closely the authorities were monitoring communications or seeking out protestors even though he always tried to be careful. He was aware that he’d made himself pretty conspicuous by throwing back the tear gas, and since it had been so close to the press line there was a possibility that he had been photographed doing it. In any case, it would be safer to update Y/N on the details when they could talk in person. 

Ben showers in lukewarm water, his skin slightly inflamed from the gassing the night before. He pulls on soft joggers and a hoodie and heads downstairs to make breakfast. Hopefully, if his mother was still home they could have a substantive discussion on the anti-Trump social media strategy. 

Leia Organa was leading all of Anonymous’ anti-Trump initiatives, which included a lot of the Jeffrey Epstein crossover work. Ben had linked his Kpop unit into this workstream and wanted to make sure the goals of both teams were aligned and well executed. There was a Trump rally scheduled for next week in Tulsa, Oklahoma and they may be able to significantly disrupt it with a strong communication strategy if they could bring the best of both initiatives together. 

Plus, if Ben could get the bulk of the strategic work done today, he could do another night of protests with the guys and maybe be back on the road to SF earlier than he had anticipated. He warmed at the thought that Y/N might appreciate seeing him a few days early; maybe he would drive directly to the coffee shop and surprise her. The thought that she was missing him while he was away pulled at his heart, but he was trying not to get too far ahead of himself. 

In the kitchen, Ben reached for the French press and was about to make himself coffee when he heard footsteps behind him. 

“You went straight from the road to the streets, huh?” his mother called to him. Ben turns and gives her a big hug. She looks bright eyed and ready for the day, no trace of last night's ordeal visible in her face. After a lifetime of similar struggles, she was used to it. 

“I did, yeah. The guys left HQ early to protest and told me to meet them. The movement out here is so well organized. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised though,” he gives his mom a grin. 

“Thanks-- we try! Things are moving quickly in SF, though! I saw they’re defunding and reorganizing their police force. Meanwhile we’re still trying to get them to stop gassing people in the streets here.” she says fingers at her temples. “We’re going to break them, I can feel it. I have a meeting with the City Council later this afternoon. Things can't go on like this indefinitely.” 

“I was hoping we could talk before you head out if you have the time. I actually drove up to talk about--” 

“--the Kpop strategy, I heard. I like it! Make enough coffee for us both, OK? Then meet me in my office.” 

Ben finishes the coffee then heads to the other end of the house to talk shop. Two hours later they had a plan, leveraging social media channels largely unfamiliar to older audiences which would allow for young activists to coordinate and spread the plan freely. Leia was impressed by Gen Z and thought they had the motivation and bravado necessary to fully commit to large scale social change. 

“I need to head out soon to talk to these local politicians, but one last thing. I heard you brought in a new recruit. She’s working with Rose?” Leia looked at him over her glasses with a tease and Ben blushed slightly. 

  
“Yes, she’s working with the anti-dictator division.”

“And how’d you find her?” 

Ben coughs nervously. “I-- uh, she reached out on social media. She has an interesting background. A lot of ingenuity in her approach to all this.” He really didn’t want to talk about Y/N with his mom yet. It was all very new. And also, was this something she was asking about on her own volition? Or had Rose said something? Where was this question coming from?

“Mmhmm. Rose seems to trust her. That’s a good sign.” She pauses, waiting for him to say something else. Then when it's clear he won’t, she stands up. 

“I assume you’re going back out with your crew tonight? If you are, you need to bring goggles with you, I don’t think they’re going to stop with the gassing even though the Mayor promised they would. Ridiculous. I left a few pairs on the hallway table. But you should really just go buy a bunch of them before you go to the protest so you can give them out.” 

“That’s a good idea. Thanks,” Ben stands to give her another hug. 

“Alright, well you take care of yourself,” she says, giving him a pat on the back as she departs. When she turns to enter the garage she calls over her shoulder, “Black Lives Matter!”

Ben spends the rest of the afternoon executing on the plans they had aligned on with the rest of the global social media team. He checks the location on Y/N’s phone; she was at the coffee shop. He sends her a nice message. Finally, in anticipation of another long night of action, Ben allows himself the luxury of a nap in the afternoon. 

**

Ben and the Field Team had come more prepared for the next night of protest, but so too had the Seattle Police. 

Ben and Cardo bought cases of goggles by the dozen at a local hardware store and handed them out to everyone who was planning to stay late and resist. Ben had picked up ear plugs as well for the flash bangs. They all covered every inch of skin, even their neck, wrists and ankles to decrease the chance of the gas burning on contact. An affiliated group had remade all of their protest signs in plywood which could be used as shields and barricade weapons. 

The protest began peacefully as they all had, and remained that way until the riot police arrived-- early and before the city curfew. They encircled the protesters in a tight military-like formation immediately upon arrival and began barking dispersal orders into a megaphone. Flashbangs and teargas were fired into the crowd seconds later. 

The police were held more at bay than the night before-- the goggles and head to toe clothing was effective and helped keep up endurance. In their frustration, however, the riot police changed tactics entirely and gave the order for mass arrests. Riot police began to swarm protesters in small groups, pulling them to the ground by their limbs or clothing and restraining them with plastic ties. Larger groups of the militia formed dense lines on either side of the main streets to block escape and arrest citizens in mass, subduing dissenters with batons and petty violence. 

“They’re just beating the shit out of everyone!” Cardo yells into his phone, live streaming the events on multiple platforms simultaneously as the protest descended into madness. 

“She’s a MEDIC!” Ben yells, pulling two cops off of the woman he’d seen flirting with Ap’lek the night before, “Get off of her! She’s a volunteer MEDIC! _You goddamn_ _FASCISTS_!!” 

Ben suddenly feels his arm pulled back roughly. He turns to face his aggressor already swinging. The full weight of Ben’s fist hits the cop squarely in the jaw as he leaned into the punch full of rage. When he pulls back his fist, he watches the cop hit the ground, completely knocked out. 

“PIG DOWN!” yells Ap’lek to Ben’s right. His dreadlocks swinging wildly as he jumps in celebration. Ap’lek pulls the medic to her feet with one hand in a single motion, turns to shield her from the police line with his massive body and hustles them both to the sidewalk. Ben runs to follow after them.

“ _FUCK_ , man!” calls out Vicrul. Catching up to the group. “They’re going to be looking for you!”

“Shit, I know. But did you see what they were doing?” 

Ben turns to the medic. “Are you OK?” she is shaking and a bruise is forming on her arm but she shakes her head yes. “Good. Ap’lek we’ve got to get the volunteers out of here-- _now_.”

A tear gas canister lands nearby, and Cardo runs forward then kicks it soccer style into the advancing line of riot police. The cops begin to choke, scatter and fall back. Cardo scampers back triumphant. 

“Shits getting really real man,” he says. “Do we retreat? Or face arrest? Now might be our only time to get out of here if we’re going to.” 

Ben flexes his hand. His knuckles are bleeding slightly and his hand aches a bit. But that motherfucker had deserved it. They all did. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” says Ben. 

“Me either,” says Vicrul.

“I owe these bastards from last night,” Ap’lek adds in a growl. 

Cardo nods, walking back toward the street. “OK-- well let’s go then.” 

***

The entire Field Team was arrested in the end. 

However, it was only after Cardo had wrestled a full body shield off a cop and used it to repel a flash bomb that then ricocheted back into the riot police line sending them 20 feet back from the protesters. Vicrul then organized a barricade against them with the plywood signs and umbrellas as they tried to advance again. When the police ultimately crashed through with their shields and batons swinging wildly, they began to arrest every person they could force to the ground. Vicrul and Cardo were the first ones in custody. 

Ap’lek and Ben had escorted the volunteer medics to their cars and helped to quickly load all of their supplies so they wouldn't be confiscated and destroyed by police. It was only after the last vehicle was pulling away and they were heading back to the street that they’d been surrounded. Dramatically outnumbered by a police force drunk with power and high off of aggression, they kneeled with their hands up for arrest. It wasn’t either of their first time being jailed for civil disobedience, but the hostility from the officers tonight felt especially hateful. 

Ben and Ap’lek refused to speak as they were herded into a large van packed with other protesters and taken to the precinct. As Ben waited to be booked, he saw Cardo and Vicrul further down the line and gave them a head nod. When the line moves again he recognizes another face -- an Anonymous operative named Finn who had joined about nine months back. He must have been in the crowd with another group. As Finn is escorted down the hallway past Ben he looks up and gives a smile of recognition. “Good to see you man--” he calls out just as he’s led through a door, likely to his cell for the night. 

Ben spends an uncomfortable night with five others in a jail cell but doesn't mind much. They don’t have enough to hold him for more than overnight. Also, as much as he knew he was making a difference through his social media work with Anonymous, he had needed to get out and fight back in a more visceral way. That punch had been satisfying as all hell.

The next morning when other protesters began to be released his name wasn’t called. As the day went on, he began to have some doubts. Had they traced the punch back to him? That seemed unlikely given the general chaos of last night, and the fact that he hadn't been wearing anything identifiable-- all black head to toe, no labels, no patterns and full face covering with goggles. By the time they brought in a messy dinner tray he was alone in the cell. Something was wrong. 

Ben spent the second night more agitated than the first. None of his friends were being held with him. Had they been separated deliberately or by chance? Was there any way to track them back to Anonymous? He wondered if Vicrul, Cardo and Ap’lek were out yet. And what about Finn? Ben didn’t know him well, but he had a strong reputation on the Anonymous US-government team which worked closely with his mother’s taskforce. 

Early in the morning on the third day, the guards threw some drunk college students into his cell to keep him company. They rambled on to each other for hours until the sun rose and then fell asleep snoring loudly, sleeping off the drink. Ben was officially over this shit. But there was nothing to do but wait. He was confident his team was working to get him released. If it hadn’t happened yet, there had to be complications. 

Ben thought about Y/N. He had no way to contact her and he wondered what she was thinking. If the group was working to get him out, would someone at least let her know he was in custody and wasn’t just ignoring her? Rose was unlikely to do that. The ultimate professional, she hated mixing anything personal into her work-life. If she was even aware that Ben and Y/N were together, she likely considered it just another datapoint rather than anything of more significance. Frustrated and beginning to get anxious, Ben starts to do push ups in the cell just to release pent-up energy. 

He was up to 60 when a guard walked up at a deliberately slow pace, stomping his boots authoritatively with every step. 

“Ben Solo?” he calls out. 

Ben pauses in a plank position and looks up. _Fucking pig_ , he thinks. 

“Come on. Gym time is over,” he says slyly, laughing slightly. Ben rises to standing and flexes his fingers, thinking that he could strangle the man with his bare hands if he truly wanted. Instead, he nods and approaches the grate. 

Ben walks down the long soulless hallway to the front office, expecting to see Vicrul or Cardo or his mother. But instead, Finn is waiting for him. And beside Finn is Rey. 

It had been over a year since Ben had seen Rey in person-- not since their breakup. And while he still felt embarrassed about some of the things he did-- and definitely some of the things he said-- he didn’t feel any sense of longing for her now. He was just thankful to be out of jail. 

“Hey, man,” says Finn. Clasping his hand. “I just got out too.”

“Hi, Rey.” says Ben. She looks healthy, happy even. He turns to fill out a slip that would release him to go. “Thanks for getting us out.” 

“Can’t bring you anywhere, Mr. Solo,” she says with a sparkle in her eye. “But it's my pleasure.”

Ben reaches out for his personal items from the clerk, pausing to clasp his watch back onto his wrist. When he looks back Finn and Rey are waiting for him, holding hands. _OH_. No one had mentioned this to him. Maybe they didn’t know how he’d take it. That might be why his mother had been asking about the new girl down in SF though… 

“Are we the last ones?” Ben asks, following the two of them out the doors into an unusually sunny day in Seattle. 

“Yeah. You guys must have really pissed off someone. Wouldn’t put it past either of you, though,” Rey says, walking to her Prius. Finn gets into the passenger seat and Ben stretches out diagonally in the back. 

Finn turns to look back at Ben, “I heard you knocked out a cop with one punch.” 

“Yeah, I did.” Ben laughs and flexes his hand. There was still some broken skin at the knuckle.

“Well that’s fucking why they held you for three days. Jesus _CHRIST_ , Ben,” exclaims Rey.

“He _deserved_ it!” Ben retorts.

“Ben’s right,” Finn chimes in. “I wasn’t there in the moment, but I’m sure they did. They were wild that night. Full military force. On _citizens_!”

“Thanks, man.” Ben replies. “Wait, what did you do?”

“I was throwing the teargas back-- with gloves of course, a guy in my crew even had a lacrosse stick. Then we started doing that traffic cone thing-- you know, trapping them after they fall so the gas doesn’t spread? There was less teargas out there could you tell? 

“Yeah, I could actually. Thanks. That’s a smart move.” Ben shifts in his seat, trying to settle in for a quick nap as Rey drives. 

Half an hour later Rey pulls up to the Anonymous Seattle HQ, a large but nondescript 1940s craftsman home not far from the Capitol Hill Public Library. Although Ben had maintained strong connections with certain members of the Seattle team, he hadn’t been inside this HQ since the break up. Rey was his mother’s top deputy and ran most of the day-to-day operations and for the past year it had just seemed too awkward to crowd into her space. Now though, with the benefit of time and a girlfriend of his own at home, Ben didn’t feel any sense of hesitation walking inside. 

“Hey!” calls out Ap’lek when Ben walks in. “They let my man out!” he says, embracing Ben. 

“Is that Ben?” calls Cardo.

“Yep!” replies Rey, as she disappears up the stairs with Finn to the office that she’d created out of one of the bedrooms. 

Cardo emerges from a side room and claps Ben on the back. “Glad you're a free man! Can't believe they kept you that long. Well, I can-- since you knocked out their boy! But still!” he laughs. Cardo leans in closer and drops his voice, “So-- Rey and Finn… I didn’t want to be the one to tell you--”

“No, no -- it's fine. I’m seeing someone in SF. It's been over a year, she has the right. Finn seems like a cool guy.”

“Oh, ok good. I figured you would be over it by now, anyway. Girls have always been into your whole brooding thing. Is it that new girl working with Rose?”

“How does everyone know about that?” Ben exclaims. 

“I mean it was just out of nowhere! We don’t get a whole lot of _new_ members! Especially ones hand picked by leadership. I heard she’s resourceful though. Seems like you made a good choice.” 

“Yeah. You’ll meet her next time you’re down in the Bay. Do you have a place I can set up? I need to take care of some things with the Kpop taskforce. I might head back to SF early tomorrow.” 

Cardo leads Ben to another bedroom in the large home that had been converted into a workspace. They work in comfortable silence for a few hours. Ben makes sure his team is fully activating the Trump rally project, while Cardo organizes the protesters on the ground for the next round of confrontations with police in Seattle. He mentions that Leia is working with the City Council on getting the police out of Capitol Hill completely, creating an Autonomous Zone for the community. Ben isn’t even sure what that means, but he trusts his mother to pull it off. 

Rey ordered a large delivery dinner for everyone at HQ, and they eat scattered around the house and the large backyard. There are a handful of new operatives that Ben doesn't recognize from a year ago, but he supposed that made sense. Before heading back to his mother’s place to get the rest he suddenly realizes he desperately needs, Rey walks up to meet him at the door. 

“It’s good to see you, Ben,” she says genuinely. 

“You too. Seems like you’re running a tight ship over here.”

“Leia would have it no other way, you know that!” she laughs. 

“You seem happy. I’m glad.”

“You too, actually. I’m glad you came to HQ. It’s good for people to see you around.” 

“Yeah… I’m surprised _you_ weren’t out last night, you never back away from a good fight,” Ben adds with a tease. 

“I would be, normally,” Rey does a quick look around then lowers her voice and leans in. “I’m pregnant.” 

“OH--” Ben’s eyes widened with surprise. Then he laughs. “Congratulations,” he whispers, pulling her into a hug. 

“Thank you,” she says softly. “It means a lot to hear that from you. I really always wanted us to be friends.”

Just then Vicrul emerges from a back room. “Ben, you ready to go?”

“Sure, whenever you are,” Ben calls. He turns back to Rey. “Take care of yourself, OK? I’m happy for you.” Then gives her a peck on the cheek. 

“Thank you,” she replies. 

Ben heads out the door after Vicrul. He doesn’t say anything, but Ben can tell he’s desperate to know what the conversation with Rey was about. Ben hopes he didn't just trigger any more gossip within the group. The problem working with a network of spies was that everyone was so insufferably nosy _and_ had the capability to find out exactly what they needed to know.

When they pulled up to Leia’s house, Vicul took out a flask and two shot glasses. “We have to do three shots man, for your three days inside.” He grins as he pours the whiskey into the glasses. 

“How far do you have to drive home?” Ben asks arching an eyebrow. 

“I live on this street! I rent the guesthouse right there,” he points. “Why do you think I’m giving you a ride? I’m not going out of my way, you're not _that_ special,” he teases. “Alright drink!” 

They take the shots in rapid succession and the heat from the whiskey goes straight through his system, warming him inside. 

“It’s really good to see you, man. I need to get down to the Bay soon.”

“Do it!” Ben says, stepping out of the car. “You guys stay safe out there,” he calls as he walks to the front door. 

Exhaustion from the whole week hits Ben as soon as he crosses the threshold. The house was dark, so his mother must not be home yet. He went directly to his bedroom for a shower and emerged finally feeling clean and ready for bed. Ready for Y/N in his bed actually, if he was being honest. He sends a message to her, explaining that he had wrapped his work in Seattle and would be heading back to SF in the morning. 

Ben climbs into bed waiting for Y/N to write back. She generally was pretty quick unless she was out. He checks her location. Golden Gate Park— at 10pm? He opens the U.S. protest tracker maintained by Cardo’s Field Team: there was an activist event tonight protesting against the monument of brutal colonizer Junipero Serra in Golden Gate Park. She must be there. That was good. Ben settled down to rest, proud of Y/N. Although the tracker mentioned that police presence was expected, a violent confrontation was unlikely in SF now, especially after the Mayor’s recent announcement. That allowed Ben to relax. 

Ben falls into a deep sleep but is jolted awake some time later by the sound of his mother returning home, on the phone speaking loudly and passionately, her voice reverberating through the thin walls of the house. 

He checks his cell, it was just after midnight. Still no response from Y/N. That was strange. He checks her location again. She’s not in the park anymore, but not too far away on a residential block in the Richmond district. Did the protesters get pushed out of the park by police? Ben checks the tracker-- no significant police presence reported. Where are her friends? In full investigation mode now, Ben pulls out his laptop to check Jame's location; he’s with her friend Kiana and they are moving quickly across the map-- must be driving. But they are driving away from where Y/N is. That doesn’t make sense. Ben checks the location for Mels who always seems to be around as well, but she’s not with Y/N either. Her dot on the map is moving away from Y/N’s location also, but more gradually-- biking, most likely. 

That _really_ didn’t make sense. Where the fuck was Y/N? And why was she by herself without her group? Ben looks up the address of her location. It was a duplex with several names attached to it and Ben scans the resident list dully until he sees-- Poe Daveron. That cashier that works with Y/N from the coffeeshop?! _FUCK_. 

Infuriated, Ben calls Y/N from the secure encrypted program on his laptop. No answer. _Fuck that,_ Ben’s brain thunders. He calls her directly from his cell so it's clear the call is coming from him. Still no response. 

Ben gets out of bed and starts pacing. He needs to know what’s going on. The three shots he’d taken with Vicrul in combination with not really sleeping for 3 days was working against his need to just start _driving._ Realistically he knew he couldn’t leave now-- not yet. He had to sleep it off. And even then it would take almost two days. 

He sends one last message to Y/N over standard text, knowing it would drop down and display his message across her screen. That was all he could do for now. Finally, succumbing only to heightened physical exhaustion, Ben circles back to bed and falls into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WTF is Y/N getting into… ?! 👀


	15. San Francisco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N needs some Xanax

“Is your man picking you up today?” Poe asks, in a probing tone that is superficially casual but also very deliberate. 

You wince slightly at the question and begin to froth some milk, taking the next 30 seconds to compose your response. Ben had been gone for six days and completely unreachable for two. 

“Not today. He’s out of town,” you reply in a tone you hoped was nonchalant. 

“Out of town during a pandemic? What does that mean?” Poe is making three drinks simultaneously and yet somehow you can feel his sharp interest and intention on you. 

“Business never stops…” you reply with a bit of a sigh, not wanting to defend his actions further. To your dismay, however, Poe’s words had wormed into your brain. 

“Hm. So, uh, how long have you been together now?” 

“We’re kind of new, Poe.” you answer with annoyance. You call out an order for a waiting customer then start to wipe down the back bar, eager to keep your hands moving. 

“Oh. Ok. So you’re not in love with him yet then.” 

Your skin prickles at that. There was no way to answer it properly, so you don’t respond at all. 

“Good. That means I still have a chance.” 

You can see Danielle grin at the register. “Stop being ridiculous, you’re such a flirt,” she calls out. 

“I  _ am _ flirting, but I’m not being ridiculous. Danielle-- how many people have I asked out since I worked here?”

“Besides me?” she asks laughing.

“Besides you, and that was before I knew you had a boyfriend you live with that you love. See? I’m respectful.” he flashes you a handsome smile that honestly did give you a bit of a thrill. He must have perceived that, so he walks over to the back bar and leans close to you. 

“Let me entertain you a bit while he’s away.”

“I don’t think so,” you answer in a playful tone, turning away from him and starting to clean another counter.

“Why not?”

“Because you have bad intentions.”

“I have the  _ best _ intentions actually,” Poe drops his voice to a low tone that makes your stomach flutter.  _ Stop it _ , you tell yourself. 

“But you don’t trust yourself with me. I wonder why that is…” he gives you a honeyed stare, that makes you swallow hard. You suddenly notice how the muscles in his forearms press against the cuff of his rolled up sleeves; you notice the line of a tattoo peeking out and wonder what it looks like, how many more there are…?

DING! It's the bell above the front door-- a customer walks in, orders eight drinks, each with at least one special request. You are grateful for the reprieve. This was the wrong conversation to be having while you were sad and upset about Ben.  _ Or the right one,  _ your brain fires back. When the massive order is done, Poe turns back to you. 

“I was teasing earlier,” Poe says in a conciliatory tone. “But you should really consider coming out tonight. I work with some Resistance groups and we’re meeting up at Golden Gate Park. We don’t have Confederate monuments here, but there’s one of that bastard Junipero Serra just down the street. We’re going to bring that motherfucker down.” 

You nod. “I’ve noticed it before. I was surprised to see it. Junipero Serra committed genocide-- who would approve that?”

“His missions functioned as forced labor camps where Indigenous people were enslaved, shackled, beaten, and infected with European diseases that killed them by the thousands. There’s no place to celebrate a man like that. So-- are you coming? I’m going to ask James when he comes in later.”

“I’ll think about it,” you reply, beginning to make a new batch of cold brew and trying to put the conversation to rest. 

“Alright but we’ll be making history,” Poe gives you a wink and a smile. “You shouldn’t miss it.” He’s undeniably handsome and charming so this whole bit just works for him. Despite yourself you wonder what he would do to you if he ever got the chance. 

  
  


After your morning shift you bike to the Anonymous HQ, like you had been doing every day this week. James was working afternoons and spending more evenings with Marco, so luckily he hadn’t noticed your long absences. When you arrive at the office, you take a seat at the empty white desk you had recently claimed as your own, Rose is working to your left wearing her noise cancelling headphones. The only other person in today was an awkward coder named Matt, who works on Ben’s social media team. 

You have been reviewing documents transferred to the group from Hux’s firm, There were hundreds of files and while an algorithm sorted them into categories, human intelligence was required to read through them and mark anything of value. Although you’re not a hacker, it turns out you are very good at combing through records and performing thorough follow-up research. You could tell Rose appreciated the help. 

So far your team has found enough to confirm that the initial hypothesis was correct-- Hux’s firm was deeply involved in criminal money laundering and propping up corrupt regimes in failed states. Your task has been trying to map out the leadership and create a list of the most culpable parties. It was a lot of work, but you were loving it. Although challenging, you feel like you are really doing something, and at the end of every day you have a deep sense of satisfaction. Rose was essentially your boss, and although she could be very intense about the mission, there were moments when you thought you two were becoming genuine friends. 

Going to SFHQ without Ben had been very intimidating at first-- what do you wear and how do you act walking solo into a room full of high tech spies?! You were surprised by how much you wanted the other members of the group to like you. The regional team was a close knit organization where everyone was highly skilled and carried themselves with an effortless confidence that you hoped to emulate. On your first day in, hoping to ingratiate yourself, you brought in several orders of the most popular espresso drinks and left them on the center table for anyone to take and enjoy. The friendship bribe was a huge hit, and led to even the more quiet operatives at HQ to at least introduce themselves. You hoped it was a strong start. 

Additionally, although you had contacted Hux’s firm only as part of a mission, they had been surprisingly responsive to your inquiry. Hux had written back the day before with a formal, curt message that said your note had been passed along to one of the firm's partners and to be on the lookout for a Zoom meeting invitation within the next few days. Shocked and anxious when the email came through, you had tried to contact Ben on every device and program you had to get a sense of what you should do and how you should reply, but he hadn’t responded at all. 

Ben’s absence weighed on you. You feel abandoned on your mission just as it was taking off, not to mention the mental energy you were devoting to what his abrupt departure seemed to mean for your relationship.

In the evenings you watched updates from the protests in Seattle’s Capitol Hill on Twitter and IG Live with shock and disbelief. The police force was so violent— something that you hadn’t experienced first hand in SF. In your heart you felt like Ben was out there-- how could he not be? But why hadn’t he told you? Maybe the escalating protest is why he had to go up so suddenly? There was some talk about the creation of an Autonomous Zone in Capitol Hill-- maybe he was working on that? Under the simple black face mask that you wore indoors at HQ you purse your lips. 

“Hey, Rose!” Matt calls out suddenly, waving slightly to get her attention as she pulls back her headphones. “Do you know when Ben is coming back?” 

“Oh, um… not really actually.” she replies matter of factly. 

_ That makes two of us, _ you think bitterly as you scan another dense legal document. 

“So he’s really spending a full week in Seattle? With _ Rey _ ?” Matt continues, arching an eyebrow and giving Rose a look. It is clear Matt doesn't know anything about Ben and you, but his tone obviously implies something about Ben and Rey. 

Your head jolts up and you want to blurt out “WHO THE FUCK IS REY?!” immediately, but using all of your willpower you keep your eyes staring at your laptop screen and gesture over your keypad to make it seem like you were busy, not at all eavesdropping, completely uninterested in their conversation. 

Rose tries to keep a neutral face, and gives a shrug dismissing the gossip. But you can sense more behind her indifferent reaction. It seemed to suggest “not now”; she was trying to drop the topic while you were there. Matt walks away after another beat, realizing that Rose won’t take the bait. 

You stare at your laptop screen pretending to read, trying to put this out of your mind, but you just can't. Five minutes later you break-- “OK, Rose. Who’s Rey?” 

She very obviously doesn't want to be the one to tell you this or get involved in your relationship at all. Rose was not the gossiping kind. Moreover, she and Ben were close and she seemed to like you. Your inquest puts her in a very awkward situation but you figure it can't be helped. She decides to respond as objectively as possible. 

“She’s one of the leads for our west coast operation. Out of Seattle. She runs strategy for a lot of the Trump stuff.” Rose obviously wants to end it there. 

“Fine. But what did Matt mean when he said— ” 

“She’s Ben’s ex girlfriend. Anything more than that you’ll have to ask him.” She wasn't  _ exactly _ snapping at you, but it was clear from her tone that the topic was closed. She returns her headphones over her ears and starts rapidly typing as you sit there mouth agape and paralized. 

You feel completely blindsided. Ben hasn't mentioned any exes to you at all, and certainly not a recent long-time ex in Seattle. You are desperate for details but also horribly embarrassed to be so much in the dark. Matt had dropped the Ben-Rey relationship so casually, as if it was common knowledge for the whole organization. A knot begins to form in your stomach as you realize that every person you’d met this week probably knows more about Ben than you do. 

You turn back to face your laptop screen, now fucking LIVID. You didn't want to be the jealous girlfriend; especially not here with your brilliant and serious spy friends. These emotions seem so frivolous within the context of what you were all working on, but you were still human after all. _Why hadn’t he just told you? Especially if everyone knew?_ _Because there must be something going on there, obviously._ This was going to drive you fucking crazy. 

Desperate to get to the bottom of this one way or another, you stand up and head across the space to Matt’s desk and sit down on its far edge. 

“Why is it weird that Ben’s going up to Seattle to see Rey?”

He looks up at you in surprise, you’d never directly started a conversation with him before. Thankfully though, he seems to lack all social awareness and answers you as if you’d asked him something of absolutely no emotional consequence. 

“They were together for so  _ long _ , and then when they broke up he was a mess. It became a problem for the group. When we had to coordinate, we’d have to send Rose up there, or Finn would come down here. It has been like, a no-go zone for-- well, basically since I started.”

“When was that?”

“Uhh… “ he leans back in his chair, threading fingers behind his head. “Maybe a little over a year ago? If they’re talking again it makes our work easier. It was hard sometimes to get things done. And then there were these factions of who’s side of the rift you were on… just like, a bunch of complicated shit.”

You feel tears prick in the back of your eyes, but determinedly you hold them back. 

“So you’re lucky to be joining now. People have been  _ praying _ they’d get back together just so we can run the group more efficiently.” he laughs. 

You want to scream. Instead, you smile at him like this was just amusing info on distant work colleagues. “Oh, yeah. Really lucky,” you manage. 

“Apparently they were hugged up together at a dinner in the Seattle base tonight, everyone’s buzzing about it. Who knows when he’ll be back now.” He has the audacity to smirk at you. 

Abruptly you turn and speed walk to your desk, close your laptop, shove it into your backpack and walk out the door. You notice Rose look up at you and hope she doesn't notice the tears pooling on your lashes. She starts to say something but you turn away and rush hastily towards the doors. 

“Dammit, Matt what the fuck did you say to her?” you hear Rose call out just as the door closes behind you. 

You race down the stairway and out the front entrance to the street, speed walking as fast as you can. It was only after two long city blocks that you realize you’d left your bike in the garage and you couldn’t risk waiting for an Uber to pick you up now; if Rose came after you and found you crying on the sidewalk you would DIE of shame. So you continue to walk hard and fast in the general direction of home. You make it about fifteen minutes before the tears begin falling in earnest. It’s another 5 blocks before you start gasping too. By the time you make it to the small Duboce Park you are openly crying and find a bench to sit on while you just let it all out. 

Ben had left you alone during your first mission for a week-long “emergency business trip” in Seattle with his ex girlfriend, The ex that he had publicly mourned over for a year. Everyone around you had known exactly what was going on. They probably mocked you for it when you weren’t around. Or pitied you. Maybe Matt wasn’t as clueless as he seemed and was trying to warn you. You feel stupid for being half in love with him already. You feel like an idiot for ignoring all the signs. You cannot believe you had walked into a mess of interpersonal drama ON TOP OF being recruited into a major spy operation. It was just too much.

Anonymous knew so much more than you about EVERYTHING. About the world, technology, global conspiracies… you felt so inadequate there so often, and now the one thing you  _ did _ think you had figured out-- Ben and whatever was blossoming between you-- they had bested you there too. Ben had been grappling with his breakup from Rey for more than a  _ YEAR _ ? You realize crushingly, that you know NOTHING. 

Moreover, he had left literally as soon as your mission launched and had spent that morning in bed  _ bragging _ about recruiting you. From his extensive “research” into your life, he knew  _ everything _ ; it would be so easy for him to manipulate you. Of course he made you feel in love! He was a goddamn SPY. He could be playing a role to make you do his bidding… or even— coerce you into putting your name on the entry point to an Anonymous mission. 

You gasp at that realization. If it all came apart, if something in the mission went wrong, there was nothing to link any of it back to Ben. Or even Rose. You were the only part of the operation really at risk.  _ What have you DONE? _

You take out your phone and call James. He picks up on the second ring: 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You always text, never call, so he was already prepared for you to be a mess. You are so incredibly thankful to hear the voice of someone who was fully on your side with no hidden agendas you just sob into the phone. “Y/N--  _ what is wrong _ ?!”

“He’s … in Seattle … with his-- EX!” you say brokenly between sobs. 

“WHAT?” James exclaims. You continue to cry in response. “Where are you?”

“Duboce... Park.”

“Stay there. I’m walking.” 

James meets you at the bench in record time still wearing his apron from the coffee shop. You are still crying, but it has subsided a bit. Now you just feel tired, and damp, and ridiculous for being emotional outside on a pretty day while normal people who are not having public breakdowns walk their dogs around you. 

James walks you the rest of the way home and makes a simple pasta meal for an early dinner. You eat it slowly and sullenly while sitting on the sofa half watching a reality show. Your sad mood must have been noticeable enough to warrant the pitying comfort of Thomas, because he crawls over to your lap and nudges his head into your chest to make you feel better. All the soft attention helps take the edge off, but the fact remains: The man you had trusted with your body, your heart and a goddamn spy operation was a complete enigma, and there was no proof you were more to him than a useful opening to an Anonymous mission with some sexy bonuses. You had always known this in the back of your mind, but he was so charismatic and gorgeous-- how could you possibly end it without a strong reason? 

You feel your phone buzzing and notice there are several messages on Signal from Rose, but you don't want to speak to her. You had spent too much time in the spy world. The rest of the evening -- and maybe your life! -- you were going to spend in the real one. With that you turn your phone off completely. James was watching you closely but doesn’t speak. When you start to silently cry again he hands you a box of tissues that he'd been keeping on the floor near his side of the couch. 

“Do you want some drugs?” he asks sweetly. 

“What?!” you gasp-laugh. 

“I have some edibles left over from our day in the park. Or just some Xanax or Ambien?”

“Oh... “ you laugh. “I’ll take a Xanax.” 

He gets up to get the bottle and hands one to you. 

“I think I need to lay down for a bit,” you stand up, take the pill with water from the coffee table and head to your room. “Thank you, James. And for not making me talk about it.”

“It's ok. A man that gorgeous doesn’t come without some tears.” You smile at that and head to bed. 

  
  


***

You wake up two hours later feeling rested. For the first few moments as you blink your eyes awake you actually feel a deep sense of calm. But as you roll over in bed, the events of the afternoon begin to come back to you in a rush. You groan in embarrassment recalling how you fled from the Anonymous HQ-- you were going to have to say something to Rose eventually. 

Just then you hear James shuffling down the hall and you get up to thank him for shepherding you through a rough day. When you open your door you see he’s dressed head to toe in black, his face mask already on. 

“Hey-- what’s all this?”

“Oh! You’re up! I thought you’d be out for the night. I’m going to this monument protest at Golden Gate Park, Poe is organizing it.”

“Yeah he mentioned that,” you say, padding into the kitchen and pouring some water. 

“You’re welcome to come!” James calls, sitting on the sofa to pull on some boots. “They’re trying to bring a monument down.”

“Hmm….” you consider. After your extended nap you are wide awake. Plus it may feel good to return to more direct activism, especially in light of your uncertain future with Anonymous. 

“Alright, give me five minutes.” 

“Three! I’m late already!” James calls back as you scurry to your room and pull on black jeans, doc martens, a simple black tank and a soft black teddy bear style coat. Remembering Poe would be there leading the group, you consider for a moment-- then take your hair out of your nap-time bun, run your fingers through the tangles. give your head a shake and quickly add two coats of mascara. 

“Four minutes!” you exclaim as you emerge from your room. “That was basically a theater-grade costume change, by the way I’d like credit please.” 

“Yes, yes, well done, lets go!” James says as he hurries you out the door. 

Once in the park the group wasn’t difficult to find. About 200 protesters had joined with the remnants of a crowd that had attended a rally celebrating the Juneteenth holiday and calling for an end to police brutality, As you and James approach the statue you see Poe leading a group attaching long lengths of rope to the monument of Junipero Serra amid chants of “Stolen Land!”

Poe is very much in his element, his bossy charisma well suited to leading an excited crowd, Just as the last rope encircles the monument he turns and spots you. 

“Hey! Y/N! James! Good to see you, just in time!” He says. He is wearing a long sleeve black shirt that clings tightly to the outlines of his muscled arms and shoulders as he takes a position at the front of the pull line and grips the rope firmly in his large hands. He turns back to his crew: “Pull left, then right! We have to loosen it first!” 

James rushes forward to join the pull line and grabs an end of rope. Watching with excitement, you take out your phone and begin recording the scene and joining the chants. 

“Y/N!” You hear someone call out-- it’s Mels and Kiana.. 

“Can you believe this?!” Mels asks, jogging toward you. “It’s really happening!” 

“Mels!” James calls out, taking a moment to wave before quickly turning his concentration back to his rope team. A moment later she rushes over and joins him. Kiana remains at your side, holding signs from the Juneteenth celebration that she and Mels had been leaving when they spotted you. 

“Did you come here for this?” Kiana asks, gesturing at the monument beginning to tremble on its podium. 

“Yeah. Poe— that guy there— he works at the cafe. He organized it and invited us.”

Kiana gives Poe a thorough up and down assessment. “Wow. He invited you?” She gives you a smile. “You have certainly got a type.” 

Laughing you ask, “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know… Antifa with arm muscles?”

“I’m comfortable with that,” you smile back at her. 

Just then you hear the calls of the crowd grow louder. The monument begins to tip, and then rock. The chanting gets louder as it begins to sway. One more vigorous pull and it tilts dramatically then tumbles off its pedestal as the group below dodges away from its impact on the grass. The crowd erupts into a thunderous roar of triumph— it was done! A person covered head to toe in clothing, mask and a beanie kneels down to spray paint on the statue's concrete base: “Stolen Land”. 

You feel jubilant and unstoppable. You post your  [ video ](https://twitter.com/shane_bauer/status/1274182715068133377?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1274182715068133377%7Ctwgr%5E&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fhoodline.com%2F2020%2F06%2Fprotesters-tear-down-3-statues-in-golden-gate-park-s-music-concourse) of the toppling online across platforms, proud to be here for this event. In that moment you have a longing for Ben-- this is something he’d probably like to know you were doing; or better yet join in with you. But then you remember-- you had no idea where Ben was, or what he wanted and a deep sense of sadness, betrayal and finally anger wash through you again. 

Mels and James run up to you ecstatic. “We did it, bitch!” calls out James. 

“Yes! Liberation! Solidarity!” Mels exclaims into the crowd. 

“Oh shit— it’s the police,” says Kiana whipping her head around. She was right. Although they were gathering in an intimidating cluster, you are grateful the city hadn’t sent in the riot cops. “Should we get out of here?” 

Before anyone can respond, Poe calls over to your group: “Mission accomplished! We may want to leave though before these bastards get revved up. A few of us are going to head to my place, you all are welcome to come.” 

“Yeah, let’s go!” Mels answers for you all, still feeling hyped up as the crowd continues to jump and chant around you. 

You cast a look in Poe’s direction and he catches your eye and lingers. When he smiles it lights up his entire face, and although he was wearing a simple cloth mask you can tell he casts a special grin at you from the wrinkles by his eyes. 

Your group follows Poe and three others in a loose formation out of the park and into the neighborhood due north. Poe leads you all through a side gate to a large backyard behind a duplex. From the picnic table, well worn benches, and other assorted items it’s clear that this yard is a regular gathering spot. Someone hands you a beer, and you sit on the end of a bench just as your phone starts to buzz in your hand. Glancing down reflexively you see it’s Signal; opening it you see it’s Ben. While your stomach initially leaps to see him reaching out, the next second you are fired up and bitter again, remembering his indifference to you over the course of the week. He’s probably just responding now because he talked to Rose. You roll your eyes and your sad heart pulses at the thought. It must have shown on your face, because when Poe walks over a moment later he asks: 

“What’s wrong? Don’t say it’s nothing, I was there when James ran out earlier.”

“It’s just— I’m fighting with Ben.” You confess. 

Poe sits next to you on the bench, legs extended straight out, leaning at an angle against the table behind him. 

“That’s no good.” He says. “Whatever it is, you’re right and he deserves it.” He smiles at you and you laugh. He clicks his beer glass against yours. 

“Cheers,” you reply, leaning back into the table as well, and shifting slightly closer to him. 

The small gathering continues for another hour or so until people start to peel off and leave. Mels decides to bike home when Poe's housemates head to their respective rooms; then it’s just you, Poe, James and Kiana. About ten minutes later James leans close and whispers: “So I’m about to call an Uber for home— what are  _ you _ about to do?”

You know what you want. Or at least what you are curious about. 

“Poe wants to show me his records...,” you reply softly, an obvious pretense. 

James arches an eyebrow at you that you know means— “are you  _ sure _ ?” You step back from him, moving closer to the patio door where Poe is leaning, waiting on you to make a decision. 

“I’ll see you at home,” you call over your shoulder.

James nods and finishes his drink in one long final pull. Kiana winks at you as she grabs her purse and they exit to the sidewalk waiting for their ride.

You follow Poe inside. It’s filled with an extensive collection of books, movies, and records stacked on shelves all the way to the ceiling. In one corner two guitars hang near a high-quality keyboard and just opposite are professional turntables. 

“Wow. You have a lot of hobbies.” You feel buzzed from the alcohol and your skin is desperate for him to touch you.

“Yeah, I suppose,” he says stepping closer. As if reading your thoughts, he tilts your chin up with one hand and kisses you gently on the lips. You freeze at first, surprised he would take the first step so quickly, but then the softness of his lips melts something inside and you begin to kiss him back tentatively. One of his hands moves to your waist, threading a long finger into your belt loop while another presses onto the soft skin at your hip. When he slides his tongue into your mouth you make a soft sound that surprises you. He feels so different from Ben, but so very, very good. 

Poe raises a hand to your face and pulls back slightly. “I’ve wanted to feel those lips since I first saw you,” he says, making you blush. He draws your mouth back to him and you kiss him back this time with enthusiasm. He wraps an arm around your low back and pulls you closer to him so you can feel the hardness of his chest and the strength in his arms as he begins to walk backwards, bringing you further into his space— likely heading toward his bedroom. You follow his lead, wondering if this will make you feel better? Will this be the push you need to get out of Anonymous and back to something more solid? Something real? 

Buzz… buzz… buzz… buzz… It’s your phone. Both you and Poe ignore it. Lips never leaving one another, you had just made it down the hall to his room and he has pushed your back against the doorframe. His mouth moves down to your neck, leaving sensuous kisses and small nicks with his teeth sharp enough to bring your nipples to stiff peaks. 

Your phone rings again. You reach into your back jeans pocket, trying to silence it. 

“Do you need to get that?” Poe asks with a gleam in his eye. Even before you look at the screen, both of you know it’s Ben. You are right, of course; and he was calling from his personal cell-- not the elaborate spyware he had been using earlier in the week. He must really want to speak with you. Overwhelming guilt courses through you in an instant, but so does defiance. You silence it and don’t answer. 

Poe leans against the doorframe on his forearm looking down at you, panting slightly. “Is this going to be a problem for you?” he asks genuinely. 

You consider his question thoughtfully, still looking down at your screen. The first call had been from Ben’s secure line. He was calling you back to back after two days of silence; that meant  _ something, _ but you honestly weren’t sure what. At that moment a standard text comes in and flashes across the top of your screen: 

_ Why are you still at his house, Y/N? You need to go home. I’m driving back tomorrow.  _

Ben knows you’re here?  _ Oh shit. _ Your mouth drops as you read the message a second time.  _ OF COURSE he knows where you are _ . And he’s on his way back.  _ Fuck _ . You are so lost in surprised panic you don’t even notice when Poe backs away until he returns and taps you on the shoulder, finally breaking you out of your paralysis. 

“Hey-- Let me drive you home.” he says. 

“Poe...” you start. 

“No, no-- I get it. I shot my shot,” he flashes that charming smile at you. “You just let me know when you decide what you want to do.”

You nod, grateful and embarrassed. You were feeling a lot of that emotion today. Poe grabs his keys off the desk in his room and then walks you to his car. As you fasten your seatbelt you turn back and catch him watching you with longing. 

“Damn,” he says softly starting the engine. “Can’t blame me for trying.” 

You smile gently. “He might still fuck up,” you offer. 

“I can only hope,” Poe laughs, then drives you home. 


	16. BREACH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions remain uncomfortably high…

Ben woke up late despite his best intentions to be on the road by 6am. The lingering effects of three nights sleeping in a cell and multiple late nights protesting had overwhelmed his desire to rush back to SF at first light and deal with whatever was happening with Y/N. Checking his phone immediately upon waking, he confirms that Y/N _had_ actually gone home shortly after his last message and he feels a bit of relief. It wasn’t lost on him, however, that she still hadn’t fucking responded to him. There was no call or message from last night or this morning so far. Something was definitely wrong. 

With a deep sigh Ben got up and dressed, packed the clothes he had tossed around his room into his duffle bag and headed downstairs. His mother had prepared coffee, a hearty plate of eggs, a stack of toast and some kind of meatless sausage that she had gotten into recently. 

“There’s my freedom fighter,” she said, welcoming him downstairs. “I figured you deserved a good meal before you left.” 

Ben leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, I appreciate it. I meant to be on the road already, actually.”

  
“In a rush to get home?” she asked with a bit of a sparkle in her eye. 

Ben looks down at his plate in an attempt to seem busy preparing his food. “Yeah…”

“I think the Trump rally initiative is nearly running itself now. You could relax up here for a few days. Unless Y/N is calling you back--”

“She’s not, actually,” Ben finally responds with a bit of a huff, sitting down and spreading butter on the toast with frustration. “That’s why I need to get back down there.”

“Ah. Well, that’s the other side of the coin. She’s being ridiculous if she’s not completely smitten with you,” she adds cheerfully. 

Even knowing that these were just the calming words of a loving parent, it makes Ben feel a bit better in spite of himself. Thankfully she drops the issue there and catches him up on all the latest with the Seattle BLM movement. The Autonomous Zone was actually coming together! It was a huge symbolic win for the Resistance if nothing else, and could definitely act as a symbol of hope for protesters throughout the country. Leia was very proud of Cardo’s Field Team operation at the protests every night, and was working with him to create an organizing guide that could be shared with other groups. 

Feeling well fed, caffeinated and overall more hopeful, Ben was on the road by 10:30am. He couldn’t help but notice that his phone was only buzzing with updates from work and his group chat with Vicrul, Ap’lek and Cardo. When he pulls onto the freeway, he sets the Tesla on autopilot and makes a call.

“Rose.” She answers in her usual highly efficient greeting, delivered with just enough of a lilt in her voice to not come off as rude or robotic.

“Hey. I’m on my way back to SF.”

“Oh, good. I heard you were in jail.” Ben can hear her typing rapidly on the other end of the line.

“Got out yesterday. I’ll update you in person. Listen—“

“So I wanted to get your thoughts on—“

“Is there something going on with Y/N? Is she in the office today?”

“Ben…” Rose lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’m not doing this with you again. You’re going to have to sort your own relationship out.”

Ben was caught off guard. He hadn’t realized there was an “again” that Rose could even be referring to. Sure, he had been upset when he and Rey broke up, but maybe he hadn’t fully considered how it had impacted the team. Upon reflection now, he realizes that it probably had though; Rose had done a lot of intermediary work between SF and Seattle over the past year. He then realizes that others in the group may feel similarly and cringes. This is probably why everyone was closely following how he interacted with Rey and monitoring his new romance with so much interest. Suddenly he is embarrassed about an entire year of his own behavior all at once. _Goddamn it._

Rose continues: “I’m just trying to make sure she doesn’t quit the whole task force right now. She’s been working on a leaderboard of the firm and we’re almost at a place where we can operationalize it.” 

“Wait— why would she quit the task force?” Ben asks incredulously. 

“You tell _ME_ , Ben! You didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell her that your ex-girlfriend is one of the lead operatives in Seattle when you head up there for a week and leave her here alone on her first mission?”

“Rey and I have been broken up for a year—“

“Well Y/N found out yesterday and not in the best way. She probably thinks you’re hiding it from her. Honestly-- Jesus, now _I AM_ involved again and I said I wouldn’t be. Please talk to her. Keep me out of it.”

Immediately Ben feels guilty for putting her in the middle of another romantic dispute and doesn’t respond for a moment, hurt and surprised he hadn’t thought about all this before he left. Who had told her? What had they _said_? He knew he couldn’t ask Rose for any more details. Pulsating with anger. Ben grips the steering wheel tightly. Things had been going so well with Y/N— could a week away truly torpedo it all? 

“Fine. Ok. I’m driving back now. I’ll be in tomorrow. The Trump/K-Pop mission is fully activated, by the way. So the reason I came up here to begin with is working out.” He adds bitterly. 

“I’m glad to hear it. Ok I have to go, I have a call with the LATAM team now. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

“Alright, bye.” 

**_FUCK_**. Ben is furious. If Y/N thought he was off sneaking around, had she gone over to Poe’s as revenge? He knew that smirking asshole had been scheming on her from the first time he went in and noticed him at the register. Ben had thought he’d put an end to it by stopping by frequently and announcing himself well enough to put it to rest, but he supposed not. Especially not if he was gone for a week… and Y/N thought he was hiding things… and he hadn’t been able to talk to her while he was locked up…. 

Ben steps on the gas and picks up speed. If he hurried, he may be able to make it to SF before noon tomorrow. 

***

Your sad and moody Lana del Rey playlist has been on repeat for hours and it was not even noon. After Poe had dropped you off last night-- with merely a wave and some lingering eye contact-- you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find rest until the early hours of the morning and somehow were awake again at 9amv. Yesterday had been a trash fire of a day start to finish and your brain would not stop replaying all of its many embarrassments. Just how many relationships had you bulldozed in less than 24 hours? 

The least deserving person you had snubbed was Rose, so you figure you should reach out to her first. You open Signal, skimming quickly over the multiple notes she had sent you and write back: 

_Hi Rose, sorry for leaving early, I wasn’t feeling well. I’ll put in some extra hours from home to get through yesterday’s cache of reading + finish up the set for today_

Rose writes back quickly. 

_Glad to hear it! Take your time. Let me know if you find anything that stands out. Hope you’re feeling better today._

Her friendly note takes the edge off somewhat and you can finally release a full exhale. At least you weren’t being kicked out of the group. If you could find the momentum to get started sometime soon it may not take all night to complete. Maybe you could wrap up what you had committed to finishing and then bow out of Anonymous gracefully? 

With one mess cleaned up, you find the motivation to get up and shower. The steam and hot water help to relax you even further. Your mind starts to drift idly-- maybe you should just reach out to Ben? No. He would be back in SF soon enough. You had a bit of time to collect your thoughts and sort your feelings; it could wait. You are vacillating between your resentment over his rush to Seattle and Rey; and the humiliation of him tracking you to Poe’s last night. What right did he have to demand answers from you? He owed _you_ the explanations! Flustered again, you finish bathing, dry yourself and pull on leggings and a tshirt with the intention of doing some simple yoga stretches to help clear your head. 

Your playlist had continued to run during your shower and just as you start your sun salutations it changes to the song [ Norman fucking Rockwell ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPt0dGg4BKA) : “ _Goddamn, man child… you fucked me so good that I almost said ‘I love you’…”_ From your position in child's pose you groan loudly at the lyrics in strong recognition. 

James crashes through your door without knocking: “Girl, if you do not take this song off of repeat.” 

“Oh, sorry-- is it too loud?”

“Kind of, but mostly it’s SAD. Lana Del Rey is not going to help you.” 

You lean into a defeated forward fold with another moan hiding your face. 

“Come eat some oatmeal before I head out. I made too much.” 

“Is there fruit in it?” you ask with a whine, face still down at your knees. 

“ _YES_. Now come on.” 

You get up and follow James into the kitchen. Graciously, he had already made you a bowl and topped it with blueberries. 

“Thank you,” you murmur walking to the island and beginning to eat. 

“Soooo… what did you and Poe get into after we left?”

“Guess, James,” you answer sullenly. 

“YOU _DIDN'T_?!”

“Well I didn’t sleep with him. But…” 

James' eyes widened. “Wow. Are you going to tell Ben? Before you answer, keep in mind that Poe probably can’t afford to keep me in the high end delivery lifestyle I am now accustomed to.” You smile and laugh a bit at that. 

“I don’t know….” you exclaim, then lean over the counter and put your face down on the cold marble. 

“To be serious for a moment, you don’t actually know what Ben’s been up to in Seattle. If it’s supposed to be work related, ask him what he’s been doing. If he can’t back it up with anything big then he’s lying.” 

You look up and nod. “You’re right. Are you working today?”

“Yes I am! Allllllll day. So don’t mope around too much. Take another Xanax. Come by if you want?”

“Is Poe working today?”

“Ooo good question. I’ll text you when I get there.” James busies himself feeding Thomas who happily threads back and forth between his legs, then grabs his mask and his phone heading to the door. 

“Buck up, Y/N! They’re both super hot so you really can’t lose in this situation.” With a wave he closes the door and leaves.

After finishing your breakfast, you make yourself a pourover coffee-- which you proudly know how to do properly now-- and take it up to the roof to drink and get some fresh air. The morning is brisk and chilly. Grey clouds glide by, but the breeze holds the promise of warmth in the afternoon. 

Your mind goes back to Ben. He had spent a week with his former long term girlfriend that he hadn't told you about-- he must have been deliberately hiding it. No man could be so obtuse as to omit a fact like that. It wasn’t just that she was his ex-- you certainly had your own. But the thought of him doing what he does to you to someone else made your blood boil. Remembering the details of your last night together you almost seethe with rage. Rey _had_ to miss it, how could she not? And they had been together for _years_. How easy would it be for them to fall back into bed? When you think about why he even had a hook in his headboard to begin with-- who it was for originally-- you get fucking LIVID. Although logically you understand that these feelings are unjustified you want to fight her. 

On the other hand, up until this week you had _known_ that it was real between you and Ben— right? This was stressing you the fuck out. 

Leaning your back against the railing of the roofdeck, you take out your phone to check your email. Although you’d intended to check for new promo codes to do some retail therapy, at the top of your inbox a Zoom calendar invite catches your attention. It was a lawyer from Hux’s firm arranging an informational interview for next week. Rose had encouraged you to move forward if any of these offers came through since it provided another avenue to collect data. Absentmindedly, you hit “yes” on the invitation confirming your attendance. 

Next was an email from a generically professional address. _Hmm, strange._ You open it and it reads: 

> **This is a security warning. There has been a breach. Your email may have been hacked by spyware. Our firm of security experts are now tracking the source of the corruption. If you have received this message, please change your passwords immediately. If you believe any confidential information you have accessed has been compromised, contact us immediately at (450) 555-4534.**

  
  
  


**WHAT**. In a shocked fog you click out of the message. _Does that mean…_

The next email is from Hux.

> **Good Morning Y/N,**
> 
> **Our firm has just learned of a security breach on our servers. Because we have been in communication, it has been recommended that you also follow our security protocol and update your passwords as well. Please be on the lookout for any messages you may receive in the upcoming days that could be malware. If you think your system has been compromised, please reach out to me and I will connect you with our security consultant team.**
> 
> **My deepest apologies for the inconvenience.**
> 
> **Armitage Hux**

  
  


In horror you drop your phone to the ground. You want to cry. Your head hurts. They had found the spyware. _Did they know it was from you?_ No-- it didn’t seem that way. But they might find out soon. They had hired a scary ass firm to look into it. 

Then your phone starts to buzz, loudly reverberating against the concrete floor. Someone was calling. You stare down at it like it's the enemy, which at this point maybe it was. At the third ring you reach down and pick it up-- you had cracked your screen. _SHIT_. On the fourth ring you answer just before it clicks over to voicemail, your brain processing only as you raise it to your ear that the call is from a nonsense mix of numbers. 

“Where have you been? I've been worried?! Why won’t you answer me?”

“Ben—“

He sounded like he was in the car driving. “And why were you at Poe’s? I know your friends left. I know you don’t _want_ me to know that, but I do—!“ 

“Ben—“ 

“You know how he looks at you. You know what he wants. Why are you playing into it?! He doesn’t—“ 

“BEN THERE'S BEEN A BREACH!” Your voice is emotional and panicky, and you can feel tears on your face. “THEY KNOW!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone stop being mean to Ben! He’s a GOOD BOY!!!


	17. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FAIR WARNING: The moods about to get real submissive this chapter!

Ben was silent on the other end of the phone for so long you check your screen to make sure the connection hadn’t dropped. You can still hear the faint background noise of his car on the road so you know he is still there. Only your own rapid breathing echoes on the line through the quiet. 

He finally asks, “Y/N, why do you think that?” The tone of his voice had changed completely. It was as if he had flipped a switch into action mode. He sounds calm, firm, rational; it is an immediate sense of comfort.

“Hux sent me an email! And their security firm sent a warning! I- I can forward it—”

“NO! Don’t do anything with the messages, especially not from your phone.” You nod, mind still too cloudy to realize he can’t see you. 

“Y/N, read the messages to me.”

You comply, reading the emails to him slowly, trying to keep control of your breath and your tears.

“OK, Don’t panic. They have noticed there’s a breach but they haven’t traced anything back to you or the team. That’s good. Remember-- we have a protocol for this?”

“Mmhmm…” you manage to agree, wiping tears from your face even as your breath starts to regulate listening to him take control of the situation. 

“We’ll need to activate the breach plan immediately but everything will be alright. Calm down, OK? They shouldn’t be able to track you unless you used your personal devices to communicate with them, which you never do.”

“No, I never--” you start, then stop short remembering... 

“Good. Well, like I said. I don’t think--”

“Wait, Ben… what if-- what if I _did_ use my phone for something-- accidentally! Just once?” That's the news that breaks him. 

“Y/N are you fucking kidding me?” He counters in a deep, low tone. 

Now it is your turn to freeze in shocked silence. He had never sworn at you like that before. _How did you make things even worse?!_ After hearing his change in tone you desperately want to lie about what you had just done, but the stakes are too high. Things were probably permanently ruined with Ben; you might as well come clean so you can protect the rest of the operation. 

“It was only like five minutes ago!” you rush to clarify. “I got a Zoom invitation from the firm for an informational interview-- Rose told me to schedule one if they offered--so I hit ‘yes’ that I would attend.”

“So you used your own easily hackable phone to respond to a message linked to your personal Google calendar?” he asks. 

You exhale sharply, now irritated by his condescension. “YES I DID, BEN. What happens now? Am I fucked?” 

“Maybe,” he mutters with obvious irritation.

“Goddamnit, Ben! You should have _been here_ . I TOLD YOU the firm had been reaching out to me asking for advice and you ignored me for days with no guidance! And _now_ you want to be critical of how I’ve been handling the mission?! If you really cared you would have helped me! I’m new to this whole thing! I am the most recent recruit and you are my handler, right? So if this all goes to shit then _you’ve_ done a piss poor job and you should be mad at _yourself_!” 

There is another silence on the line. You wait for his response feeling unrepentant about your rant and darkly curious about how he would react to your outburst. 

“I’m driving back to SF now.” His tone was measured but there was a growl in his voice. “You need to talk to Rose. Call her and give her the code word for a breach.” You can tell he’s holding back his anger by a thread. “By the morning she’ll have a plan, if not by this afternoon.” 

“Sure, I’ll run back to my babysitter _Rose_ ,” you snap back. “Even though _you_ have possibly _ruined my life!_ ” you add sharply. 

“ _Look--_ _!_ ” his voice sharp. It startles you. “I’ve had _a_ very rough few days Y/N, and this…” he trails off. Ben pauses, and you hear him exhale slowly-- twice. “I’m going to get off the phone now,” he finishes slowly, likely through clenched teeth. 

You have the distinct impression he had just stopped himself from saying something he would regret. A part of you wants to antagonize him further, to trigger a full fight, put everything out on the table and likely end it all with cause right here. Just bring it all crashing down. But you hold back. 

“That’s probably for the best,” you reply stiffly. 

“Call Rose. _NOW_.” he concludes and then the line drops. 

You stare at your phone, mad that he somehow got in the last word. Tears still in your eyes, you feel desperate to see him in person so you can tell him to go to hell directly to his face. This _was_ all his fault and he had the audacity to blame _you_? You take a few shuddering breaths. Shake your head. Roll out your neck. Close your eyes and dial Rose. 

*** 

Early the next morning you decide to walk the 35 minutes from your home to the office. You reason that you could use the fresh air and the movement to burn off some of the nerves tumbling around your stomach. And in any case, you had left your bike parked in the SFHQ garage three days ago, 

Ben would be back today. You hadn’t spoken to him since your anger-laced phone call the day before while he was on the road. Adding to the intense anticipation, there was no telling when he would make it in, or even if he was there already. Although you were mad and resentful, you couldn't deny that a part of you still wanted to see him. To tell him off-- sure; and to confront him about Rey-- definitely. But a part of you had _missed him so much_ over the last week, that you needed to know if those feelings held when he was in front of you again. 

Feeling both hopeful and spiteful, you dress up a bit more than you normally would, pulling on a [ linen midi dress ](https://www.madewell.com/linen-blend-button-wrap-midi-dress-AO243.html?dwvar_AO243_color=NA5334&cgid=sale-auto-apparel-skirtdress#start=0) with cute but walkable [ mules ](https://www.madewell.com/the-robbie-slingback-mule-AM232.html?dwvar_AM232_color=BR6755&cgid=shoes-flats#start=0) and a lined denim jacket to bundle against the early morning chill. You take time with your eye makeup, add a shimmering highlighter to your cheekbones and some simple gold jewelry with clean lines. If this was going to be one of the last times you see him you wanted it to count.

Rose had said to meet her at HQ by 9am so you could work through the next steps about the breach. She had taken the news with her usual calm and practical professionalism and honestly you weren’t sure why you had expected anything less. She didn’t point fingers or assign any blame; just asked a series of straightforward questions and committed to briefing you on the protol and a plan today, exactly as Ben had predicted. 

As a start, Rose deactivated the spyware that was running on the firm's servers yesterday afternoon. Anonymous had collected hundreds of documents already that still needed to be reviewed. Rose was hoping that somewhere within what the program had captured there was enough evidence to prove a conspiracy. 

She was more concerned about the Zoom invitation you had accepted on your phone. She had directed operatives to run a preliminary safety scan across your Google accounts to prevent hacking or data transfer and one of the engineers was going to take a closer look at your device this morning in person. Rose was somewhat optimistic that because the transferred files went back to the servers at SFHQ and not to you personally, you may have dodged a bullet. Possibly. For now at least. Finger crossed. 

Overall, your 45 minute conversation with her had made the breach seem somewhat less scary. With the help of one of James’ Ambien pills, you were even able to get a full night's sleep. Now you walk through the city quickly, mind racing with scenarios of how the day might turn out. You hope the breach has not eroded the budding friendships you had started to make within the group, but in any case, you were ready to be contrite and deeply apologetic to everyone in the office today. 

You are the first to arrive at 8:45am. Usually, the space is radiant with late afternoon sunlight, buzzing with soft conversation and the mild drone of incessant rapid typing when you walk in. This morning, however, it feels eerie stepping into the silent empty space alone. Your footsteps echo as you cross the floor and the grey morning fog clouds the large windows, filling the room with gloomy shadows. 

As you set up your laptop on your desk and drape your jacket over your chair, you hear the door slide open with a whisper and you turn to look with a jump-- it’s not Ben. Instead it's Anakin, one of the engineers you had met briefly a few weeks back. He seems very young, maybe even high school age, but if he’s here at HQ you are confident he has proven his worth somehow. He approaches your desk eagerly with a small wave. 

“Hey, Y/N. Heard our spyware was breached on your mission.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize! Happens to the best of us. I’m here to check out your phone and make sure they can’t trace anything back. Can I see it?” You hand it to him. “Oh no-- you cracked your screen,” he adds, examining it closely. 

“I did, is that a problem?“ you ask nervously.

“No, but we should probably upgrade you to one of ours that has the latest security software installed. I can get you one today if you want?”

“Oh, really?” you ask, surprised. That wasn’t at all what you had expected. 

“Yeah, of course,” He smiles back. “I need your Google passwords too I’m afraid. I promise I won’t hack it,” he jokes. 

“I’m sure you could hack it without this,” you reply with a smile while you write it on a post-it note and hand it to him. 

“I’m probably going to scrub this device completely and change all your passwords just to be safe. I’ll wipe your new phone as well before I load everything back. Will that work?”

“Yes! That’s fine. I appreciate it,” you smile at him. You had come prepared to face derision and condescension from the group today and this was exactly the opposite; it felt like white-glove VIP service. 

“No problem at all! I know this is a top priority for Leadership.” Anakin replies. 

“Wait, what?” you ask startled. 

“Something is definitely a top priority when Ben calls me at home and tells me I need to be at HQ first thing in the morning, you know?” he laughs a bit again.

You nod in response agreeing as if you knew about this all along. 

He drops his voice. “He was kind of in a mood about it, actually. I’m mad you beat me here! I was supposed to be waiting for you when you walked in.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t beat you by much. Thanks again.” 

“No problem. I’ll get you back up and running as soon as possible.” He sets up at the desk just behind you and gets to work. 

You sit back in your chair processing the new information, feeling a bit warm inside. Was Ben making this a priority because of you or just to protect the group? Beneath his anger and disappointment could there still be a chance…? Possibly. But within the context of Anonymous, Ben proactively preventing you from being pulled into a federal espionage investigation might be a pretty low bar.

Rose walks in at exactly 9am, She looks super chic in a simple white shirt, denim overalls and an oversized jacket, wearing a cloth face mask with a dainty floral pattern. She walks straight to you and leans against the long end of your desk. 

“Hey! How are you doing? So, so sorry you got found out yesterday. This happens sometimes. Our cleanup protocol is already underway and no one has traced any of the operation back to us yet, so that’s good.”

“Thanks. Yesterday was a bit of a shock since I’m new to this but--” 

“Don’t worry about it! That email _was_ kind of spooky. You’ve been doing great. I see Anakin’s already taking care of your phone. We probably should have just upgraded you when you started, it would have made things easier. That’s a mistake on my part. I told Ben that too, so if anything he should be frustrated with me and not with you,” Rose adds quickly. 

That was the second mention of Ben so far this morning. It made you wonder if after your fight he had started making calls around the organization. Maybe he was upset that your first mission had been rockier than he’d intended? Could everyone be trying to ingratiate themselves with you now because of your proximity to him? How powerful _was he_ in Anonymous? And by proxy-- how important were you? You had been prepared for everyone to shun you today and treat you like the bumbling, inexperienced rookie who had potentially exposed them all. Instead, everyone was acting as if they had let you down and were methodically trying to make up for it.

“Remind me, what’s the name of the security firm they’re using?” Rose asks. 

You open the email from your laptop and scan the message down to the signature line. “Starkiller LLC?” 

“Yikes, that sounds fucking ominous,” responds Rose. “I haven’t heard of them before. Hmmm.” She sets up her computer at the desk to your left and begins typing rapidly. “I’m going to have our researchers look into them and try to get a sense of how advanced this security team really is.” 

Rose bites her lip as she stares into her screen. It's unnerving; you had never seen her display any sign of anxiety before. This might be a big damn problem after all. 

***

The rest of the day is relatively quiet. You settle into your standard document review on the files pulled before the breach, and continue to build out your leaderboard of Hux’s firm. Anakin had finished his security work on all of your Google accounts, which in theory would make you immune to the security firm's scanning. He had also wiped your old phone of all data and given you a new iPhone protected with Anonymous' highest security software. 

Operatives filter in and out throughout the day, and every time you hear the whispering swish of the office doors you jerk your head nervously waiting for Ben to walk in. By early evening, he still hadn't arrived. You are deep into your reading of a particularly interesting document that may link the firm to a series of crimes you had never even considered possible, when Rose pops up next to your desk. 

“Hey! So Ben will be in soon, but I actually need to head home. I'm having groceries delivered in 10 minutes. Will you be able to give him the update on what we did today?”

_Shit._ Of all the disastrous ways you had imagined today going, none had involved reporting on the breach to Ben in a one on one meeting. You didn’t want to do this; if Rose was leaving, you wanted to sneak out and go home too. But you couldn’t bear to let her down again; you feel guilty enough about jeopardizing the mission as it was.

“Sure. I can handle it.” you respond mustering all of your confidence. 

“Great. Thank you. Like I said, he’s not far away— I tracked him at 13 minutes out.” she adds reassuringly. 

You tilt your head at her words, amazed to discover that location tracking is so routine. If it was so common place within the group, maybe Ben had just forgotten how fucking weird and invasive it seemed to outsiders? In context, perhaps tracking you to Poe’s wasn’t the overly possessive red flag like you’d thought? While you contemplate this, Rose rushes to pack her things then leaves. 

You sit at your desk, anxiety spiking. You can no longer focus on the document you had been reading. You tap your fingers nervously on the desk. The only operatives still in the office were Matt— who had sheepishly waved at you when he came in a few hours earlier, seemingly aware of the big mistake he made last time you talked— and Anakin, who you can hear gradually packing up his things behind you. 

“Hey, Y/N-- I’m heading out!” he calls with a friendly cadence as he walks toward the exit. 

“Bye! Thanks for your help today,” you call back to him with a wave. 

“No problem!” Just as the doors whisper open you hear him say in the stairwell, “Oh, hey! Good to see you, man.” followed by heavy footsteps on the metal grate of the stairwell. 

Ben was back. 

He was still wearing his sunglasses from the drive, but you can feel his gaze focus on you as he takes long strides to his office, although he says nothing. Through the glass walls you can see him toss a backpack to the floor and power up his workstation. He was going to make you come to him. You narrow your eyes in frustration. You literally had no choice-- Rose had given you an assignment to report. _Fuck_. 

You could do this. There was nothing to be intimidated by, really. No reason for your stomach to be in a knot. No reason not to walk in with confidence and leave straight after. An update on the breach wasn’t about your relationship; it was about the mission. You needed to present important information as an Anonymous operative to Leadership. That’s it. 

Mental pep talk completed, you stand and straighten your dress, grab your notebook and walk to his office. Even though you know he saw you walk toward him, he is so focused looking at one of his monitors you knock on the doorframe before you enter. 

“Come in,” he says, with no emotion, not even bothering to look up. 

“Rose wanted me to update you,” you respond dryly in return, moving into his office clutching the notepad in both hands. He extends a hand in a gesture that means “go ahead” and removes his sunglasses, setting them on the desk.

Annoyed by his coldness, you update him on the actions Rose and the engineering team had taken regarding the breach reading from your notes. He nods on occasion indicating he was hearing you, but continues to type, his face hidden behind his collection of monitors. Possibly taking notes on what you were saying, possibly doing something else and not giving you his full attention. Instinctively you knew that he was very much focused on you, however. You had felt his energy spark when you first entered the office. You knew that he was as hyper aware of your presence as you were of his. 

“Did Anakin get you a new phone?” He asks as you were wrapping up, the sudden question was startling after his indifferent silence. He still didn’t meet your eyes, scanning between three screens and typing rapidly. 

“Yes, he did,” you respond. Then, recalling how helpful Anakin had been all day and how eagerly he had been seeking Ben’s favor, you add, “He was here waiting for me when I got in this morning.”

Ben nods approvingly. 

When you finish your update you turn to go, glad to be done with this charade. Ben finally stops typing and looks up from his monitors. 

“Did I say you could leave?” he asks coolly.

You pause and turn back to face him. “Excuse me?” you reply with one eyebrow arched.

“I didn’t say you were done. We’re not done.”

“We are, actually. Anonymous is a hacker _collective_. You’re not my supervisor. You can’t make me do anything.” 

Ben stands slowly and looks directly into your eyes with a piercing glare. “Are you sure about that?”

From the main room you hear the front door slide shut and turn to look. The large open space was now empty, meaning Matt had just left. There was no one else here beside you and Ben. _Great_. 

You look up to meet his eyes. He was tall and handsome as always. Wearing a [ black long sleeve shirt and dark denim jeans ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/7e/16/0b/7e160bea366102ef8182e497c3d0f071.jpg) , his hair was loose and grazed his strong jawline and the nape of his neck. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, but the stubble around his facial hair only made him more alluring. _Bastard_. 

“I didn’t like the way you spoke to me last time.”

“You deserved it.” you snap back at him, crossing your arms.

“I didn’t.” he responds decisively, as if by his own declaration the topic was closed and he was right. 

There’s a long pause. You don’t know what to say or do. Looking up at him is too tempting; his dark eyes did things to you and made it hard to focus on why you were angry in the first place. 

“Y/N…” 

“What else do you want from me Ben? I’m here— conspiring with Anonymous. Keeping your secrets! _SPYING_. Putting my life and freedom at risk. I’m the _only_ person whose name is directly tied to the breached mission and dealing with this by myself while you’re _off in_ _Seattle_ _with_ _Rey_ doing _God knows what_ and completely unreachable when I need you. Then you have the _audacity_ to pop back up out of blue, track my locations and scold me?!”

Instead of responding, he slowly steps around to the front of his desk and leans his hips back against it. He studies you with a heavy emotion that you can't place. Then crosses his arms while his eyes narrow darkly. “Get on your knees.” 

Your eyes and mouth open wide in shock and horror in response. _WHAT?!_ Shamefully, however, when you meet his eyes and see that he’s serious a warmth grows between your legs.

“You’re thinking too much. You get like this when you need some discipline. I was out of town for too long.”

“Did you not hear what I just fucking said?!”

“I heard you,” he answers casually. He is much too confident in this moment. Too in control. It didn’t make any sense. _YOU_ have the upper hand here. Your points were valid. _He was putting you in danger!_

“The thing is you _want_ to work for Anonymous. You like risking it all for the movement— it’s something you’re passionate about. You love keeping my secret; and you love being a part of it. So don’t give me this ‘You’re endangering me’ bullshit. This was all your choice and you know that— own it.” 

You swallow hard in response, unable to think of a rebuttal. You hate when this bastard made sense. 

“You don’t want to go back to your boring everyday life, or you would have done it by now.” He pauses again but you still have nothing to say. He leans forward off the desk and takes a step toward you. An instinct tells you to back away at his approach but you don’t. He was standing close to you now. Then looks down and says in nearly a whisper, “You love being my good girl.”

Your stomach drops as if you’re on a rollercoaster. He was so sexy, and so close to you… 

“You’ve been doing all this hard, dangerous work, and you haven’t been rewarded for it. Not lately. Not by me.” He reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear and leans close to your face. 

“But since you have such a goddamn attitude— and have clearly forgotten how to speak to me— I will repeat: Get. On. Your. Knees.” 

_**Fuck. Me.** _Your brain roars, either meaning of that phrase perfectly encapsulating your thoughts. Ben is more severe than you’ve ever seen him. He means this shit. You could walk out. His hands weren’t on you and you were confident he wouldn’t follow behind you if you did. There’d be no huge dramatic scene. You could just pick up your bag and go.

But did you want to leave? 

Or did you want him to touch you again? Touch you more? Reward you-- like he’d said? It took a few moments for you to be honest with yourself, even within the depths of your own mind. But when you finally are, you make the honest, shameful choice. Not taking your eyes off of his, you lower yourself to your knees, the low dark grey carpet of his office scratching against the bare skin of your calves and kneecaps.

“Look down at the floor.” He commands. You obey, feeling oddly deprived that you can no longer look up at him. “Keep your hands in your lap or on your thighs unless I tell you otherwise.” You had already laid your notebook down then placed your hands on your lap and felt a small pleasure that you had done the right thing on instinct. 

“I need to punish you,” he begins, placing a large hand on your head and stroking you like a pet. “But you’re such a little slut for me I know you’re going to enjoy it. So—“ he crouches down so he is approximately at your eye level, then grips your chin with his fingers, his hand is so large he's basically holding your entire face, before tilting your head so your eyes meet his again. “What should I do?” 

The feeling of his hands on your body is electric. You want more-- _need more._ Your panties are soaking now but you’re still so _angry_ inside. 

“I don’t know, sir.” You whisper. 

“Do you want to act like a good girl?” he asks, staring deeply into your eyes. You swallow hard, breathless. 

“Yes. Yes sir.” You reply in a whisper. It was honest. But you were also so embarrassed at yourself that you are blushing from your scalp to your chest.

“Good. Open your mouth. Show me your tongue.” You obey. 

His face is so close to yours the display feels obscene. Just as you have this thought, he spits into your mouth, a fine mist of his saliva coating your tongue. You are too shocked to do anything but blink wildly. 

“Swallow it.” You swallow, eyes wide, heart racing. “Did you like that?” 

You aren’t sure. But you feel tingles in your body and your pussy clenches at his question. _Fuck, that means the answer is yes then_. “Yes, Sir.” 

He watches you closely, studying your expression. Your breath is coming faster now, you can feel your chest rising and falling, He may even be able to hear the rapid beating of your heart. 

Ben’s hand moves into the roots of your hair, grasping roughly and jerks you closer to him so you’re leaning an inch from his face, the motion so sudden you have to reach out your hands to the floor to keep from falling all the way forward. 

“Do it again. Open your mouth, show me your tongue.” You repeat the motion. When he spits again so you swallow immediately. His grip tightens. 

“Did I tell you to swallow it?” 

Shocked you reply, “No, sir, but I thought that’s what you wanted—“ His free hand shoots up suddenly to tap your face hard, the pressure just short of being a proper slap. 

“You’re not supposed to be thinking right now. You’re supposed to be _obeying_. I’m getting you out of your head.” He releases your hair and stands back up as you quickly lean back on your heels, hurriedly placing your hands back in your lap, hoping he hadn’t noticed they’d ever left. 

His voice changes to the gentle melodic tone you're most familiar with, the sound of his voice on a lazy afternoon, “Do you remember your colors? Yellow? And red?” 

“Yes. I do, sir.” you say, looking down. He hadn’t told you to look up at him. 

“OK. Use them if you need to.” You nod. He begins stroking your hair gently, so softly you close your eyes reveling in the feeling as he speaks. 

“Because I’m about to punish you. For talking back. And for hurting my feelings. Being a little brat in general, actually. _Oh—_ you didn’t think that I was upset with you, too? After you ignored me for days while I was out on an Anonymous mission? Didn’t think I’d be mad that you couldn’t keep your shit together for _three days_ while I was in jail for protesting?”

Your eyes shoot open. Honestly you hadn’t really thought about his feelings or that there were other explanations for his extended absence. You had been overwhelmed by your own emotions and scared about your own risk. _Oh God you’re the worst…_

“They told me…” you begin trying to explain yourself. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to talk. 

“Go on,” he encourages. 

“They told me you were with Rey. That you went up there to be with her, to get her back.” 

You can hear Ben growl within his chest. “Who told you that?” He asks in a hoarse tone. 

“Matt…” you say honestly, somewhat worried you’d just gotten him into serious trouble. 

“Why the fuck…” Ben's voice trails off. He doesn’t speak for some time. “Y/N, stand up.” You rise, kicking out your legs a bit to get the blood flowing. He pulls you gently to him, arms wrapping around your low back and looks into your eyes with tenderness. 

“I didn’t go up there to be with Rey. I went up there to work. Remember I told you my family has always been part of the Resistance? My mother runs the operations out of Seattle.” Your eyes go wide. 

“I needed to coordinate a social media campaign with the anti-Trump team she leads. We’re trying to disrupt his rally in Tulsa on Saturday. We shouldn’t do that over the phone. So I went up there to handle it in person. And Rey— we broke up over a year ago. She’s with someone else. Happy. Pregnant. And I’m with you. Ok?” 

_Oh no.._. 

If what he said was true, then you’d been spiraling all week for nothing. It also meant that with all the facts on the table, the incident with Poe was _way_ out of line. 

“Oh God, Ben.” You look down. “I’m sorry… why didn’t you just tell me all this?” 

_“I was arrested for protesting and held for 3 days!_ I called you when I got out and you were at another man’s house. So yeah -- I’d say you have more to explain than I do.” Ben’s voice had been soft but now had resumed its angry tone. “You were with Poe.”

“I wasn’t _with_ Poe…”

“Don’t lie to me” Ben’s grip on your waist tightens suddenly and shifts you so you stumble slightly forward into his chest. 

“You let him touch you.” It's a statement. He knew. You don’t know how he knew, but he did. His eyes seemed to see into your very thoughts; the way he was looking down at you it was impossible to lie. 

“I did… I didn’t know… I thought-- “ You try to explain. 

“Where?” Ben breathes, leaning close to your lips. 

Shame floods your body. Convinced Ben had seduced you to gain compliance for an Anonymous mission just to run up and rekindle his connection with Rey, making out with Poe had felt almost righteous in the moment. Every graze of his hands against your body had felt like revenge, like what you were owed. You had felt so justified. But now it all felt so wrong. _You had been at another man's house while your gorgeous activist boyfriend was in jail for protesting?_ _Who would do that?!_

Softly you reply, “He kissed me.” Ben twitches and you see lightning flash in his eyes. 

“Where?” he asks sternly. 

_FUCK_. “My lips... Ben--” 

“Where else?” he repeats. One of his hands reaches up to hold your throat. “Here?” Wide eyed you look up at him and nod slowly. 

“Mmhmm. Why did you stop him?”

“I--” you feel almost breathless. Why _had_ you stopped him? “You called me.” you blurt out. 

He arches his eyebrows. Shit that's not the only reason, you start to ramble: “I don’t want him Ben, I want you. I missed you. I was hurt. I thought-- I didn’t know what to think! I hadn’t heard from you in days and then the whole HQ tells me you were up there with your ex…” 

“Stop.” Pulling you even closer into his chest he reaches down and under your dress sliding his large warm hand up and between your thighs until he cups your pussy. He slides a finger under the edge of your panties and he moans softly when he feels your wetness. Instantly you push your hip forward against his hand but he draws back, tracing your folds lightly but no further.

“You need to stop thinking the worst of me when you’re unsure. You trust me with your body… I don’t know why you won’t with everything else.” He says, finally sliding two fingers into your core as you lean even closer against his chest, gripping his shirt between your fists as he curves his fingers into your favorite spot. 

“Oh…” you moan, your flood of desire rushing over his hand.

“...so fucking tight.” He whispers to himself, sliding in and out slowly and making you desperate for what you have missed. 

“Take out my cock.” You oblige, practically hypnotized by lust. The sound of his belt coming undone makes you clench against his fingers and you press a firm kiss against the base of his neck. You reach for his heavy member, and grip him firmly as he groans. His cock is hot to the touch, hard, throbbing in your hand as you begin to stroke him in long slow motions. 

“Mmm… Put it on your lips,” he murmurs. You sink back down to your knees, ready to take him in your mouth, but his voice gets stern again, “No— don't lick it, yet. Let it rest here.” He corrects you, pulling back so that the head is placed gently against your lips. 

“Mmm… You’re so needy. But I’m not sure you deserve it.” You make a sound that’s half a whimper and half a whine. He was teasing you mercilessly and your body ached for him.

“Listen, Y/N,” he intones. “I’m only going to tell you this once: If you want to fuck Poe you can. Or anyone else who walks into the damn coffeeshop. Do it if you want to. But you won’t be mine.” Ben backs away from you a half step, looking down harshly. You feel a physical loss that his skin was no longer on yours. 

“Yes, Sir. There won’t be anyone else— there wasn’t…”

“There would have been. Because you assume the worst when I’m not around. You need to _trust me,_ Y/N.” You swallow, not knowing what to expect next. 

He is stroking his long cock in his hand, slowly, hot eyes piercing down at you. “Tell me you want it.” 

“Please give me your cock, sir,” you murmur. He narrows his eyes and you see his cock twitch in his hand. “I know I probably don’t deserve it. But please, sir… I just made a mistake…” 

Ben takes a step toward you and lowers his voice, “Do you mean it? Or do you just want me inside of you?” He murmurs in a soft earnest tone that wavers just enough to betray his true feelings-- you had really hurt him. 

“I mean it, Ben.” You say breaking the rules of your sex play and meeting his eyes with raw honesty. “I’m sorry. Truly.” 

He reaches down and strokes your hair gently. You exhale at his touch, just before Ben leans down and greedy lips crash against yours, taking your bottom lip into his mouth to bite into the soft flesh before plunging his tongue into your mouth almost as if he was devouring you. By the time he pulls back and let’s you go, you are breathless, desperate with wanting. 

“Good. Take me in your mouth now.” 

  
  


_(To be continued….!)_


	18. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N & Ben work through the kinks…

You look up to meet his eyes, each of you radiating a myriad of desires. 

You had been wrong about Ben; about his silence in Seattle, about Rey. He’d been MIA only after an extended arrest for protesting; Ben and Rey had both moved on. If you hadn’t ignored him you would have known this already. Further, you had messed up big time entangling yourself with Poe. Now you wanted to make things right. Your body was on fire and you wanted him inside of you— you wanted to feel him everywhere. You reach for his cock and begin stroking him slowly, then wrap your lips around the large leaking head, excited to please him. 

“Oh God…” he mutters, as you move your tongue around him, sucking slowly before inching further down the shaft. “Y/N…” he weaves a hand into your hair, playing with your waves, stroking you gently, adding no pressure, leaving you in full control. 

He feels so good in your mouth you take him even deeper, testing your limits and going farther than you had before. 

“Shit—!” He gasps. 

You flip your eyes up at him and see he is biting the knuckles of one hand as he watches you. His eyes are soft now, almost reverential. You pull back on him entirely, saliva pooling on your lips, then lavish the tip with attention before taking him again and finding a steady rhythm. He is breathing heavily, never taking his eyes off of you and murmuring your name. Bringing him this much pleasure makes you feel so powerful. While your right hand holds the base of him, your left slides into the top of your dress and begins to draw small circles around your nipples, sending chills through your own body. 

“Mmm you're touching yourself?” he asks softly.

“Mmhmm” you moan around him.

“Did you miss me?”

“Mmhmm…” you moan even louder, then pull off of him with a satisfying pop. “Yes, daddy I missed you.”

“Come here…”

He pulls you up to standing then into a hungry kiss. You wrap your hands around his cock, wet from your warm mouth, and he begins to thrust his hips slightly forward and back into your grip as his slides large a palm into your hair to draw you even closer. 

“I missed you, too.” With your free hand you curl your fingers around the curls at the nape of his neck and he closes his eyes, melting at the gentle intimate caress. He kisses your temple then leans close to your and whispers, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

“I was scared, Ben…”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

Ben rotates so that you are now pressed against the edge of the desk, then reaches down to lift you to sit on its edge. You spread your legs to create a space and use your grip on his dick to pull him forward between your knees. 

“Mmm..” he moans as he stumbles to you. He cups your face and draws your eyes up to meet his. You are surprised to see they are a bit glossy with emotion. He kisses you deeply again then pulls back. 

“I’m going to fix it, Y/N. The breach. We will fix it. It may take a bit of time, but we will. Ok?”

You nod and kiss him thoroughly, a moan leaving your lips as a series of anxious knots unclench in your stomach. “Thank you,” you reply, 

He leans his head down so his forehead is angled against yours then whispers, “I’m going to protect you, I promise. But if you get mad at me again, please don’t just run to someone else.” 

You blush; fair point. “I know. I shouldn't have done that.” 

He kisses you and slides hands up your thighs, his fingers playing with the waistline of your panties as you shift and wiggle helping him to pull them off you. 

“I thought I was losing you. I just want to keep you happy,” he breathes heavily on your lips.

“Mmhmm” you sigh. His cock is rigid in your hand. You move the stiff head over your dripping pussy to coat it with your juices before pressing it onto your clit, moving in slow circles that make you grind your hips and moan in pleasure. He draws in a breath sharply, watching you begin to melt at the stimulation and starts to move his own hips forward but you look up at him devilishly and hold him back. He bites his lower lip and you feel his cock throb in your hand. You move to tease him at your entrance, dipping just the very tip of his cock inside before moving it away over your slick folds but not letting him inside. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,  _ Y/N… _ ” he rasps. “I was supposed to be punishing  _ you _ ,” he smiles as you tease him. His cock twitching in your hand as you grip tighter making his gasp. 

“You were a bad boy, too…” you purr. “I’m in Anonymous now. You should be able to tell me about your missions. We don’t need secrets between us.” 

He nods at you, his breath hitching as you refuse to let up your slow withholding torture. “You’re right…” he gasps. “No more secrets. I’m sorry.” 

“I’d say I’ve proven myself,” you say, nipping the thin skin at the base of his neck.

“Are you still mad?” Ben looks at you with a sudden wicked gleam in his eye. 

“A little,” you reply honestly. 

“Do you want to hit me?” You arch an eyebrow sky high, surprised. “Come on,” he encourages, raising one of your hands to his face. You narrow your eyes, bite your lip and accept the challenge-- giving him a firm tap on the cheek. “That’s all? You seemed pretty pissed earlier. Don’t worry— I know my colors.” 

His dark eyes are sparkling with mischief. It would be a punishment for him, but you know he’d get off on it. Just like you did earlier when he ordered you on your knees. 

“You asked for it,” you whisper, then slap him soundly across the face. It wasn’t until after you’d done it that you realized you’d never slapped  _ anyone _ before. His loose hair falls across his eyes and he pauses a beat before he turns and looks back at you eyes gleaming. 

“Mmm… I deserved that.”

“You did.” 

You are holding the tip of his cock just inside you, moving in slow circles ignoring the eager rocking of his hips. “Mmm… can I fuck you now?” 

You can feel his eagerness in your hand, and an enticing thought comes to mind. You look him straight in the eye and give a command: “Only if you beg.”

Ben laughs loudly and leans his head back. “Oh! You learn quick…” he says with a smile. Then he leans down to you and seizes your lips for a sensual kiss, places another on your jawline and finally draws your earlobe between his teeth before whispering, “Y/N--  _ please _ let me fuck you. I need it. Please. You’re driving me  _ crazy… _ ” 

His voice makes your walls throb and he’s not even fully inside of you. The next moment you wrap your legs more tightly around him and remove your hand, finally allowing him to sink effortlessly inside, your wetness already spilling onto your thighs. 

“Oh my God…!” 

“Y/N--  _ fuck _ !” 

You both cry out at the same time, the feeling of your joined bodies so overwhelming at first contact, you pause just to gasp at each other. He holds your face with both hands, his mouth agape as he withdraws and sinks every inch of his cock back inside again. You are stretching and griping around him, and he feels  _ so good _ — better than you had even remembered. You curl your fingers around the back of his neck, holding on while the other braces you on the desk keeping you upright. He works the buttons of your dress with one hand until your breasts are exposed and immediately takes the stiff peak of a nipple into his mouth, nibbling it just the way that makes you melt. 

“Oh!” you call out, and in response he grips your hips and pulls you even closer to him, beginning to move faster, his breathing accelerating as he fucks you harder. When he moves his mouth to your other breast, the feeling is so intense you arch your back and point your toes, beginning to whimper and feeling the first twitches of your approaching climax. He rolls his body forward, pushing himself even deeper and you both moan in unison as you begin to clench around him. 

“Oh baby… oh beautiful…” he murmurs, 

“Oh fuck… Ben— I think…”

“Are you going to come? Oh God, I missed this… please come for me baby…” he calls to you, between ragged breaths. 

Your body explodes over him. You try your best not to scream and instead bite down on his shoulder, moaning directly into his tshirt which helps to muffle you somewhat. 

“ _ Yes… _ ” He huffs as you spasm and the flood of your come pulses around his cock. 

Ben caresses the length of your legs wrapped against him, up and down as you tremble through your release. Only when you are floating the wave back down does he lift your ankle over the shoulder that is not earning your bite marks, and ease you down flat on the desk. He bends forward to kiss you deeply while he pumps into you even harder, then burrows his face into the hollow of your neck, whispering obscenities of praise: “You’re so fucking perfect… you came on my cock… oh, you’re gushing… daddy missed you too….” 

“Oh, Ben…” you repeat again and again, all you can muster as his body drives into yours. One hand is lost in his hair and the other moves down to the grooves in his lower back; you just want to feel the power of his thrusts moving from the outside. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he breathes, and you turn your head to face him. He cups your face and you immediately draw his thumb into your mouth and start to suck.. When you trace your teeth over the ridges of his knuckle he moans, “Mmmm…! God! Oh, I’m going to come…” He starts moving wildy inside of you. You take the hand that was on his back and slide it between your bodies to press against your clit, instantly making you tremble again.

“OH GOD!” you cry out, losing all control, bucking wildly, Ben’s rigid body keeping you pinned to the desk as you explode in ecstasy from the inside out. 

“FUCK!” yells Ben. His entire body begins to shudder and you can feel him explode inside of you as he pumps through his own peak. 

Completely spent, you lay together in a gasping pile on his desk, chests heaving, clothes half on, both of you only partly in reality. 

Finally, you gather enough energy to say, “We can’t do this in the office again.”

Ben turns his head to look at you quizzically. 

“I need to sleep. Right here. Now,” you murmur, panting between each phrase. 

Ben smiles and nuzzles into you. “You may have a point about that,” he says, before pushing up and sliding out of you slowly. 

“Oh, we made a mess.” He laughs softly, tucking himself back into his boxers, and pulling up his pants. He wraps his arms around your back to lift you up to a seated position and buttons your dress— stealing kisses along the rise of your breasts all along the way as you smile softly. 

“I’m glad you’re home.” 

“I am too,” he replies. “Stay the night with me?” 

You nod. “My place though. I have a morning shift.”

“That’s fine. I just want to sleep with you curled up next to me.” 

You glow inside as he helps you off the desk to your feet. You grab your things and float out of the office to his car, warm feelings enveloping you like a blanket. He drives quickly to your home, keeping a hand securely on yours the entire trip. 

James isn’t home when you both stumble in and you head straight to bed, undressing to just your undergarments. Laying together, still feeling languid and satisfied, Ben tells you all about Seattle. He describes the protest, how each night escalated in response to the riot police presence and ultimately how he came to punch a cop in the face-- a detail you relish. He tells you about the long stretches of mindless waiting in the jail cell not knowing when he’d be released. 

Ben also explains his latest Kpop mission, the success of which would be evident the day of the Trump rally in two days. If he had successfully mobilized an entire generation to request scores of tickets and then not attend, the campaign’s attendance data may be so corrupted that the stadium would be empty and the event a massive failure. It could be a huge public embarrassment to an administration that seems to care for little but “ratings” and media commentary. Amazingly, this mission which was ultimately an elevated prank, could be a defining moment in proving that the emperor had no clothes. If it worked, it could be a massive chip in the facade that the Trump cult had created; it could help to break the infallible persona that he had cultivated among his supporters. 

Listening to Ben talk you finally decide to let down your guard. You give yourself permission to trust him. More than once you had drawn your own conclusions, shut him out, and been in the wrong. He had earned your benefit of the doubt. From now on, you would assume his best intent until proven otherwise.

“For the record,” Ben says, “I tried to tell you all this when you came into my office, after you finished your report. But you told me off before I could get a word out,” he says with a teasing sidelong look in your direction. 

“I had a lot of my mind,” you say with a sly smile. 

“Yeah, you did,” he kisses your temple. “Anyway, that’s when I, um-- decided to change course,” he says with a smirk. 

“That’s one way to put it!” You laugh. “How’d you know I’d even go for it?”

“Well you started by talking about how you wanted to quit Anonymous, and I knew that wasn’t true. Understandably, you’d been spooked by the breach. But the Rey stuff was just a misunderstanding. I thought if I could get you out of your head a little bit, then we could clear things up in a fun way,” he smiles. “Although… you really  _ did _ hurt my feelings about--” 

“OK!  _ OK! _ I know! We don't need to go over that again,” you rush, not wanting to reopen that wound. 

Ben stops there. Then adds thoughtfully, “I guess we never really talked about seeing other people, I just assumed…”

“No, I did the same. That’s why I was so upset when I heard about Rey.” 

“Why was Matt even  _ talking _ about that anyway?”

“People saw you and Rey chatting and hugging in Seattle. Apparently it led to-- speculation.” 

Ben rolls his eyes and looks frustrated. “She told me she was pregnant, I was just being kind. Isn’t that what you do when…” he trails off, irritated. “We’re  _ Anonymous  _ for God’s sake; we’re not supposed to be  _ gossiping.”  _

You laugh at that, he raised a good point. Seizing the moment to clarify the issue while it's at hand, you turn to him and bite your lower lip slightly. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, Ben.” 

“I don’t either.” He pulls you closer and places a kiss in your hair. “You’re a wild girl, how could I possibly have the energy for anyone else?” he whispers tenderly. 

“I guess you’re all mine then,” you say with a smile. 

Pulling you close so you curl against his chest to finally rest in his arms, he replies “Yes, I am.”


	19. Security

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You weren’t sure how to explain that although you and Ben were now OK, other aspects of your wild week of bad decisions may have more long term consequences.

Your alarm wakes you entirely too early. It feels exceedingly unfair to be dragged back to waking before 6am in preparation for your shift while nestled perfectly in the valley between Ben’s chest and the drape of his arm. You start to do the math: if you have to be there at 7am, and it takes 10 minutes to walk there, maybe you could rush and get dressed in 15 minutes and stay just like this for another half hour…? Unfortunately, the alarm had broken through Ben's rest as well. You feel him shift, then stretch and finally turn to face you. 

“Mmm was that your alarm?” He asks, eyes still closed. 

“Yes…” you whine softly.

“You have an early shift today,” he murmurs. 

“I don’t want to…” you reply, burrowing back into your warm comfy nook. 

Ben kisses your forehead still without opening his eyes. “Come on… you shouldn’t be late…” he mutters, pulling back the comforter from you. Helpful and annoying. 

You pout, but he is already half back asleep. With a small sigh you head to the bathroom for a shower. Afterwards, you pull on an easy sundress and admire the man resting in your soft floral print sheets. His sculpted back rises and falls softly with his breathing. You sit on the edge of your bed to slip on your mules, and then feel Ben roll toward you and wrap his strong arms around your waist. 

“What time is it now?” He asks in a low sleepy voice.

“6:15,” you reply gently, tracing a finger across his face moving some of his long hair from his eyes. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “There’s still time.”

“Hmm…?” you question as he pulls the sheets back and pivots to slide out of bed. 

“Can I delay your for— I don’t know, 10-15 mins?” he asks with a devilish sparkle in his eye.

“Ummm…” you start to answer, as you watch Ben sink to his knees in front of you. He places his large hands on your knees and looks up at you. _Ohhh…_ You bite your lip and spread your legs a little, and he smiles, licks his lips then leans down and begins placing kisses on your thighs, slowly moving up between your legs, his hands roaming under your dress and giving you goosebumps. 

“Ben…” you whisper as he slides off the panties you’d just put on, and pulls your body forward so the crux of your legs is directly in front of his face. Ben ducks his head under your dress and licks over your entire cunt with the flat of his tongue as you arch your back and press into his lips. He licks your folds and you begin to whimper for him, then he slides two fingers inside your wet center at the same moment he circles your clit with the top of his tongue making you gasp and twitch. You watch him, starting to breathe rapidly as his arms encircle your legs to bring them around his neck. Ben moans into your pussy, lavishing your most sensitive places with his mouth while you thread your fingers through his hair, grinding against him and feel your climax building. 

Ben pulls away from your slick core for a moment, only to slide in three fingers next, making you groan loudly and fall back flat on the bed arching forward and pointing your toes, the flats of your feet trailing over his rigid shoulders as he drives you toward your peak. You are close now, the pleasure mounting in your belly and beginning to radiate throughout your body. As you gasp and begin to tremble, one of Ben's large hands slides up your torso then wraps long fingers around your neck. 

“ _Oh my God…_ ” You whisper. _How was he still dominating you from on his knees and between your legs?!_

The contradiction inflames you. You begin to call out for him, rolling your hips into his mouth, When he squeezes your neck it pushes you over the edge-- you come violently and deliciously against his face, the pleasure so intense you barely make a sound besides your panting breath. Ben moans loudly into your pussy as you spasm in ecstasy. He doesn’t slow down or stop, his fingers pumping so quickly you can hear the lewd wet sound through your delirium. You wrap hands around his forearm on your chest and hold tight as you ride through your peak, which just seems to go on and on and on... Eventually-- after the longest orgasm you can recall— you release your hold on him and push his shoulders back from you with the balls of your feet before you grow oversensitive. 

You lay gasping on you back and reach out for Ben. He is standing now, stroking himself rapidly and looking down at you with a satisfied smile; he loves it when you are blissful like this. You slide down the straps of your dress to display your hard nipples to his view, then trace your fingertips over them, giving him a bit of a show, urging him along, “Come here…” you murmur, gesturing to him. When he moves closer you sit up to face him then lean forward and draw his balls into your mouth. 

“ _Oh-- Y/N_ …” he mutters, starting to breathe rapidly. 

“Mmhmm,” you moan, hoping the vibrations of your voice feel good against him. 

“ _Shit--_ ” he calls, just before he shudders and you pull back allowing for him to explode over your bare chest. “Oh…” he huffs again, watching you as you gaze up at him darkly while he pumps through his climax. He places a hand on your shoulder and leans against it to steady himself; you press a kiss onto the back of it as he begins to descend from his peak.

After a few panting breaths, he looks into your eyes, grins happily and kisses you gently. “We have to hurry now,” he laughs against your lips. 

“Oh, crap! I forgot!” You hop up and rush to the bathroom to clean up again and hear Ben throw on his clothes rapidly. 

“I’m going to drive you!” he calls. The offer is funny considering how close the cafe was to your house, but at this point every minute may count. 

By the time you’ve pulled yourself together, Ben is dressed and waiting. You both rush out the door and the Tesla pulls in front of the cafe with two minutes to spare. You spend one last minute kissing him lovingly and whispering against his lips, your fingertips lazily playing with the chain resting against his collarbone. Finally, you pull yourself away and walk into the shop at exactly 7am on the dot, radiant and glowing.

“Good Morning!” Danielle calls over to you as you walk in, a bit of a sparkle in her eye. 

You wave in response, hurrying to the back to put down your things. As you swing open the door to the dark space, you spot Poe pulling on his apron turned away from you. 

“Oh!” You exclaim, stopping short when you see him. “Hi!” you recover, trying to set a friendly tone. It is jarring to see him now in person, but you really hoped things wouldn’t be awkward between you forever. 

“Hey,” he says, turning to face you with a smile. “I didn’t hear from you, so… I’m assuming everything is set back to right in paradise?” Poe asks you, with a lingering gaze.

“Yeah,” you smile, blushing slightly as you pull on your apron. “I’m sorry for--” 

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he says with a hand wave. He walks towards the door. “Like you said-- he might still fuck up.” He winks and smiles mischievously at you then heads to the front.

When he leaves, you smile to yourself. That seems unlikely to you now, but at least everything at work was back to normal. 

***

During your lunch break you take a walk to pick up food from one of the recently reopened takeaways. Settling down on a bench waiting for your meal you Facetime Ben. He doesn’t love video calls in general due to security concerns, but you want to see him, so you hoped he’d play along today. To your delight he answers. He is sitting in his office but had obviously gone home to shower and change. His hair was pulled completely back and he is wearing his black hoodie over a basic white v-neck shirt. The video moves jerkily as he stands to close the door so you can talk privately and as he moves his shirt shifts, giving you a peak of a faint bite mark from you on his shoulder. You grin to yourself when you notice it. 

“It's good to see you,” he says, walking back to his desk. “Even though I kind of hate this. You know this isn’t a secure line, right?”

  
“ _I know_ … I just wanted to see your face,” you reply. He smiles. 

“Speaking of-- would you mind if I upgraded the security at your apartment? I think we should take more precautions with the wifi and systems you’re using.”

Is he just being cautious? Or was there something specific he was worried about? Sticking to your new code, you decide to just ask him directly instead of drawing your own conclusions.

“No more secrets Ben, is this just a nice offer? Or did you find out something about the breach? Or the security firm?”

He pauses for a moment. “I don’t want to scare you.” 

“Well, I’m a little scared _now_ , Ben…”

He pauses again considering; then says, “It’s a little bit of both, I guess. Our research team has been looking into Starkiller LLC. I need to make sure they can’t track anything to you. Or find you. Would you let me do this?”

“If you’re worried about my apartment you’ll probably have to do James’ things as well.”

“I know. That’s fine.”

You sigh softly. Now that things were back on track with Ben, you had hoped to put the whole of last week behind you. “Ok. Sure.”

“Tonight?”

“Oh! Wow, that’s soon. There hasn’t been an immediate threat has there?”

“No! No. I just— these guys are more serious than what law firms usually use for this kind of thing. I want to… well, I promised that I’d protect you.” He confesses. 

You bite your lip at his words and your heart swells. While the entire situation was kind of terrifying, Ben was acting pretty gallant. 

“Ok, then. Come tonight. How about this? I will even cook a nice dinner to thank you.”

“Oh, really?” he asked excitedly. It was cute how much the small gestures seemed to mean to him. “Thank you. I’ll be over around 7?” 

“That’s perfect. Just so you know, you’ve kept me smiling all day,” you grin sweetly at him, allowing yourself to be more vulnerable than you normally would be. It was another new thing you were trying out in the Y/N-Ben relationship 2.0.

“Good,” he says, looking at you closely. “You look beautiful today.”

You blush under his praise. The taqueria calls your order and you turn your head and raise your hand toward the window. 

“Is that you?”

“Yes, let me go. It was good to see you,”

“You too, see you tonight.” 

*** 

Later, Ben arrives with a backpack full of gear to upgrade every piece of technology in your home. As he works, James and you stay out of the way sipping wine in the kitchen while a spinach lasagna bakes in the oven. Thomas, however, takes a different approach, following behind Ben closely weaving between his ankles every time he moves. Meanwhile, you catch James up on how you were wrong about Rey, and knew for certain Ben was working on a big project while he was in Seattle. 

After listening to your story and closely scanning your eyes for sincerity he asks, “So you guys are back together?”

“Yes,” you smile, swirling the wine in your glass.

James leans close and whispers conspiratorially, “Did you tell him about Poe?”

“Yeah...” you say with a sigh; thinking about your misstep still makes you cringe a bit. 

“Was he pissed?”

“Very.”

James gives you a pointed look. “Have you fucked him yet?”

You laugh loudly, then lower your voice. “Yes. Very well, in fact.” 

James laughs too. “Good, so it's all better now?”

“Mostly!” You weren’t sure how to explain that although you and Ben were now OK, other aspects of your wild week of bad decisions may have more long term consequences. 

“Girl, what else do you need to do?”

“No-- sorry, yes! It's all better now. We’re great.” You reply. 

There was no way to explain the breach and its potential fallout to James. It had been hard enough explaining why all of a sudden Ben was fixated on upgrading all the tech in your apartment. At that moment, Ben was kneeling down in the corner of the living room running new cables from your router tightly along the wall while Thomas playfully pounced around him. Rather than be annoyed, however, you watch as Ben strokes his back gently and softly murmurs to him; your heart flutters in your chest. 

Because it was a dinner party of sorts, you had decided to eat at the rarely utilized dining table, a bit of a treat since for months you’d taken meals leaning against the kitchen island, the coffee table in front of the sofa or your own room. By the time you are setting out plates, Thomas has earned a spot on Ben’s shoulder perched almost like a parrot, curling against his neck. 

Laying out cloth napkins, James turns to Ben: “We have not had _an event_ in our place since February. I AM DYING. This is so nice!” 

You smile to yourself as you bring the lasagna to the table. delighting in this welcome return to normalcy. 

“Sorry, Ben-- we’re already drunk,” James says, taking a seat to Ben’s right. “Y/N and I started a party in the kitchen while you were slaving away.”

“I have to catch up then,” he says, raising a glass as James pours wine into it. 

The dinner goes well. James is an extroverted delight per usual. Ben is relaxed. You are mainly glad the recipe you pulled from Mels’ favorite food blog turned out so well, and happy the two men you have spent most of the year with are forming a bond as well. This was an important next step in your relationship and its significance was not lost on you. 

Several drinks in, James’ playfully bold curiosity gets the better of him and as you stand up to get another bottle of wine you hear him ask, “Have you ever been with another guy, Ben?”

He chuckles softly and replies, “No, I’ve never been in a relationship with a guy.” Taking another sip of the syrah in his glass. 

“That wasn’t the question,” James continues. You roll your eyes as you open the next bottle and start to refill everyone’s glasses. 

Ben nods at you in thanks, then smiles and takes another sip slowly. “Well… sexuality is a spectrum.”

“Don’t I know it,” James says with a wicked grin. “So that’s not a no.”

“It’s not a no,” Ben agrees. You look over at him with a smirk, intrigued. James has the same expression. 

“Here I am even more impressed by you, Mr Solo. There has to be _something_ wrong with you though. What— are you, like, a Republican?”

“JESUS CHRIST, JAMES!” You exclaim before Ben could even answer. “Why would you ask someone that?” 

He shrugs, “It’s a valid question! You know these tech guys are all over the map.”

Ben laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not. _God, no!_ My mother would disown me.” Ben answers. 

You want to yell HE’S FUCKING ANONYMOUS-- AN ANTIFA HERO! But you can’t. Obviously. So you sulk and swirl the red wine in your glass. You weren’t even sure you should say he was active in leftist politics. 

Finally you come up with: “Ben’s from a very prominent activist family, actually. They’re all engaged in the movement.” 

You look at Ben to make sure that was ok for you to share. He nods and smiles at your defense, then reaches for you and pulls you close to him. 

“Ok, good! I was just checking to make sure I have all the important facts. You’re over 6ft,, moderately bi, very liberal-- I’m satisfied. No more questions. Cheers to us!” 

You all clink glasses, although you are still shaking your head. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you say to James, laughing softly. 

James says, “This was fun! I feel like I should have invited Marco!” 

“Oh! Next time you definitely should!” You answer with enthusiasm, but you feel Ben stiffen beside you. It wasn’t noticeable to James, probably, but you also notice him press his lips into a thin line. 

_Hmm._ You remember then that Ben had mentioned he was tracking Marco. You hadn’t asked about it since the day you found out weeks ago, and you make a mental note to ask him about it later. 

***

“I’m glad you got a chance to hang out with James,” you say the next morning as you both get dressed to start your day. You were going to do a morning shift at the cafe then meet Ben at Anonymous HQ-- today was the day of the Trump rally and Ben was anxious to see how his mission would play out. 

“Yeah, it’s good to get to know him better. He’s hilarious.” Ben pulls on a shirt and jacket and then turns to you, leaning down to place a kiss in your hair. “I’m not going to dinner with Marco though.”

“What?! Why not?” You ask, surprised. 

Ben looks at you for a long hard moment, then begins to slide on his shoes. “When are you going to be done with your leaderboard of the firm?” 

“ _What_?” you echo again, shocked as Ben grabs his keys off of your side table.

“Let’s circle back on this conversation after you’re done with that.” He leans down to kiss you one more time on the lips then turns to leave. 

Ben walks out of your room and you hear him call out in the front: “Hey, James! Good talking to you last night.” 

“You too! And you know what? I can tell the internet speed is _waaaay_ up since whatever you did! I’m going to have to trust you on the security part though. Does this mean I’m clear to use the dark web?” James teases.

You hear Ben laugh loudly. “I’m still going to recommend that you stay away from that. See you later.” Then you hear the front door close. 

You are sitting on your bed in just your jeans and a lace bra, frozen after hearing Ben’s cryptic warning. What the fuck did Ben mean about Marco? How could it possibly have anything to do with Anonymous?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW INDEED?!


	20. Party Circuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When worlds collide…

“Oh my GOD, Ben— are you seeing this coverage?!” You exclaim into your phone, walking up the street to your house after your afternoon shift. 

“I’m watching! Yeah, it’s— pretty incredible,” he answers modestly, but you can hear the excitement in his voice. 

The Trump rally was a slow rolling disaster. Trump and his associations had spent the past week bragging on camera about the over 1 million requests for tickets. They had even booked a separate overflow venue to hold the throngs of enthusiastic supporters they were expecting. However, hoards of people had requested tickets with no intention of actually attending. The wildly inflated campaign metrics had resulted in a venue that was a quarter full at best, the  [ entire upper decks of the indoor stadium empty ](https://twitter.com/billprady/status/1274578284592852992?s=21) , and the ridiculous superfluous “overflow” section was a deserted parking lot littered with campaign detritus. 

TV news showed the disappointing crowd on an endless loop while on-air personalities hypothesized about whether Trump would even go up to speak. But the commentary was the most biting on social media. Gen Z and Millennials held nothing back in  [ mocking the campaign's epic failure  ](https://twitter.com/baddestmamajama/status/1274517469546156032?s=20) and celebrating the  [ high profile victory ](https://www.tiktok.com/@elijahdaniel/video/6840570819664547078?_d=secCgsIARCbDRgBIAIoARI%2BCjzbBjqWvQHGYWD1ogNfmfxlaNIepp4F8kLLb%2FJCuf5H%2F9uCEZgzWBrvLXlJAmsViHeGxTn%2B2r4gJ9VdikwaAA%3D%3D&language=en&preview_pb=0&share_item_id=6840570819664547078&timestamp=1596114307&tt_from=copy&u_code=d6628714begldj&user_id=6689775124806190085&utm_campaign=client_share&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=copy&source=h5_m) of their collective petty trolling. 

Even Poe had been triumphant about the mission's success; he had registered for a dozen tickets himself and had encouraged his activist friends and organizations to do the same. While you knew this was a victory for his efforts as well, all day you had felt a bit smug knowing it had all been part of Ben's social media activation strategy. This effort was a mission that Anonymous had activated, operationalized and seen come to fruition even more dramatically than they had hoped. 

“It was all anyone could talk about at the coffee shop today— even the customers! I feel like I’ve sent you so many  [ TikToks ](https://www.tiktok.com/@theawkwardgiant/video/6840593925816765701?_d=secCgsIARCbDRgBIAIoARI%2BCjyHoWofk2ocUJYs%2FGc0IGCjsiq%2FhxGLXFrQ9EjT8cw3nAEOBSiRNSk0I7xEz1dGIn5RNRKD%2Ffgu%2F2nPVtUaAA%3D%3D&language=en&preview_pb=0&share_item_id=6840593925816765701&timestamp=1596113396&tt_from=copy&u_code=d6628714begldj&user_id=6689775124806190085&utm_campaign=client_share&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=copy&source=h5_m) on this,” you continued to gush.

“I’ve been watching them! I— I’m so glad the mission was a success we worked so hard to coordinate it, but I have to admit, I didn’t expect it to work this well,” he laughed a bit. 

Ben’s humility within the glow of success was enormously sexy, and in turn made you an unrepentant hype woman. You are so incredibly proud that you _cannot_ _wait_ to see him tonight. Under normal circumstances, one glance in your direction from those dark eyes made you flush; after all of the excitement today you were ready to ravage him _on sight._

“I’m  _ obsessed _ with this, Ben,” you say, making it to your building and taking the stairs just to ensure you keep the phone connection. “Just wait until I see you…!”

His voice drops, “What happens then?”

“I’m not even sure, yet. You’ve done so well— what do you want, daddy?”

“I can think of a few things…”

“Can you?”

“I can.”

You smile giddily to yourself. Your plan was to rush home, change quickly, and meet Ben at SFHQ. Anakin had set up a projector so they could watch social media reactions and news reports altogether on an office wall. Ben was ordering dinner for the group. And one of Ben's closest friends and his start-up co-founder Kuruk was back in SF after quarantining for months with family in LA. 

“I just made it home, let me grab my things and I'll be there soon.”

“Hurry up and get here” his deep melodic voice rasps into the phone, making your stomach flutter and you bite your lip. 

“Yes, daddy…” you whisper in reply, and hang up only after you hear a growl in his voice. 

Feeling a bit victorious yourself, you unlock your apartment door and step inside to see James wielding a cocktail shaker and two platters of snacks and goodies on the kitchen island. 

“Finally! You’re home!”

“What’s happening? Are we just feeling festive today?”

“Y/N— meet Marco! I had such a good time with our dinner party last night I invited him over for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres!”

“Very posh, James.” you smile back at him, although Ben’s words from the morning flash through your mind. It was exactly the wrong time for an escalation of the James-Marco relationship, and your mind starts buzzing thinking about how your Anonymous mission may overlap with the start of this new-bf + friendship circle integration. 

A handsome man approaches you: tan, trim, dark hair and dark eyes. He gives you a wave in greeting. 

“Very nice to meet you, finally. I’ve heard good things.” His voice has a softly rounded accent that sounds rich and foreign. You definitely get the appeal. 

“Same to you!” you reply as cheerily as you can manage, while James pours two drinks into your nicest crystal-cut hand-wash only martini glasses. He really was going all out today. “Let me change quickly— you guys get started without me. I’ll stay for a drink before I go to meet Ben.”

“Ben’s her bf,” James says to Marco. “He’s this tech mogul and he just upgraded all of our servers and devices yesterday for extra security protection.  _ So _ nice of him.”

_ Yikes!— _ you didn’t love James tossing out that detail. But you had never told him the security upgrade was a secret. There didn’t seem to be a way to casually throw out: “Hey! so, my bf has been tracking your bf because he may be linked to an international criminal conspiracy and the security upgrade might actually need to protect both of us  _ from _ him?” Instead, you nod accepting James complement of Ben and dash into your room. 

During your quick shower you run a few scenarios: You want to tell Ben immediately, but he’s in such a festive party mood today you don’t want to spook him and pull him back into action just yet. He deserves a night of celebration and success. It could wait until tomorrow. In any case Marco was already in your house and would likely spend the night— what were you supposed to do, kick him out? No. Just stay for a drink. That would make James happy and possibly generate some additional intelligence. Who’s to say this was even the same Marco that Ben was thinking of? It was a pretty common name after all. 

You change quickly into something that makes you feel great and think Ben will enjoy: the shortest black skirt that you feel comfortable biking in and a silky nude-toned camisole, then pull on your black teddy bear jacket to fight the breezy early evening SF chill. When you reenter the common room Marco is seated in the living room having a cocktail while James flutters around him. The scene is so sweet and domestic you say a silent prayer that all of Ben’s instincts are wrong. 

“So Marco! Where are you from?” you ask, settling into your investigation while nesting on the arm of the sofa. James busies himself behind you mixing one of whatever they're having.

“Sao Paulo, Brasil.”

“Oh! Cool! Do you work in tech?”

“Oh, no-- consulting, actually. Although I do work with some tech companies.”

James cuts in. “He helps businesses to get organized in developing countries. As part of their global expansions.”

“Wow. In what regions?” you ask, accepting a drink from James. Taking a sip you find it's sweet and sharp-- a properly made lemon drop martini.

“Latin America mostly, but some in Europe.”

“Eastern Europe?” you ask. 

“Yes,” he answers, giving you a bit of a lingering gaze. 

“Sounds complicated,” you reply. 

“You just have to know the right people. Like anything,” Marco replies. 

_ I’m sure you do _ , you think to yourself taking another long sip of your cocktail. James sits down besides Marco. 

“You know, I was considering working in transnational law and business-- do you happen to have a card? I’m interested in learning how that world all works,” you ask. 

“Oh, sure.” Marco pulls out a card from his wallet and hands it to you. 

“Thank you,”

“No problem at all. I actually work with quite a few big firms in that industry. I could make some introductions if you’d like?”

James cuts in, “She was supposed to work at a major firm this summer, but the position was bumped because of Covid,” James rolls his eyes. “Marco, have you heard of Exegol Industries?”

“Oh definitely! I have worked with them before!” he says brightly as your stomach drops to the floor.  **_FUCK_ ** **.** “We should definitely talk!” Marco says helpfully. 

You down the rest of your lemon drop as quickly and gracefully as you can manage. You need to get out of here  **_now_ ** . The liquor hits you all at once when you stand up in a rush and you force a smile on your face while you nod agreeably.

“Are you heading to Ben’s?” James asks. 

“Mmhmm!” 

“Take some of the food I made! I got excited and made way too much, per usual.”

“Oh! That’s so sweet James. Sure, I’ll grab some.” You walk to the kitchen and make a small plate of crispy spinach puffs and wrap it tightly in saran wrap while your best friend gets cuddly with the new beau. The whole scene was awkward and adorable and possibly disastrous. 

“It was good to finally meet you in person, Marco! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Please get in touch! I’d love to be helpful if I can,” he calls back. 

You stumble back toward the front door, forcing a smile on your face. “Definitely! I will do that!” you say as you back out waving, grabbing your backpack on the floor. You race down the hallway heart racing. Fuck.  _ Fuck fuck fuck. _ Fuck.  **FUCK** . 

In the garage you arrange your items in your bike basket and take off at speed. You need to get your blood pumping in order to process this information. Reality was setting in that there would be real consequences to your actions. The names on your leaderboard were more than data points-- they were real people. Your mission had to go perfectly from here on out. No more mistakes. You can’t afford to be wrong. 

By the time you make it to SFHQ. you feel slightly less drunk but your head is still in a fog from everything you just learned. You race up the black metal stairs ready to corner Ben in his office and tell him every word Marco said, but instead you dramatically burst into a full goddamn party! You take a half step back in surprise-- in your rush from James’ spontaneous cocktail soiree you had forgotten that Anonymous was celebrating tonight! 

Music is roaring throughout the large cavernous space. The lights are dimmed to help sharpen the glow of a projected display on the far wall; at the moment Anakin is scrolling through Twitter and people are laughing at the  [ sharp jokes ](https://twitter.com/YourAnonCentral/status/1274497959657238528?s=20) and  [ hilarious play by play ](https://twitter.com/AOC/status/1274499021625794565?s=20) of the Trump rally failure. A handful of ice buckets are scattered across the desks, brimming with bottles while about twenty people mingled at socially responsible distances but within range of conversing with one another. You shake your head twice just to try and reorient yourself. 

Ben spots you immediately and hurries over, sliding his mask down just enough to kiss your forehead and then your lips when you briefly shift down your own. His lips feel electric on yours and settle the anxiety in your stomach-- somewhat. Success looks good on him; his hair is loose, longer now and grazing his shoulders; his cheekbones hold a bit of extra color from his happy mood and possibly the few drinks he’s had since before you arrived. He is practically beaming and even with his face half covered his smile is evident from his bright eyes. 

“Wow, you look incredible,” he says. You had forgotten you had slightly dressed up.

“Thank you,” you reply, leaning into him as his arm curves around you pulling you close and giving your bottom a little squeeze. “Ooo!” you laugh. “Control yourself, I just got here.”

“Where would the fun in that be?” he asks wickedly. 

  
“That’s a great point, actually,” you whisper into his ear just as a tall, muscular, very blonde man with an exuberant aura approaches. 

“Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you!” he calls to you. 

“Babe, this is Kuruk,” Ben says. __

_ Babe?!  _ Your mind races, that was new!

“Hi, Kuruk! So good to meet you,” you reply. 

“I finally made it back to the Bay and I feel like I’ve missed so much! Glad you’re here. Rose says you’ve been a huge help-- and I know that means you’re really a rockstar!” he laughs. 

“Oh, that’s sweet of her,” you say. 

Ben jumps in, “I know you were excited to see  _ me _ , but wait until you see  _ Rose _ in party mode,” 

“My God, I can’t imagine” you respond earnestly. 

Just then Rose rushes toward you. “Y/N! So glad you’re here! Geez, it's so hard not to hug everyone when they come in, isn't it? Here, I brought you a drink, you need to catch up.” She sets a mini champagne bottle and a metal straw on the closest desk and gestures toward it. Even when tipsy-- or likely drunk at this point-- Rose was still being responsible. Her demeanor was a delight regardless though, and you move forward to grab it and join the fun. 

Anakin switches the projector view to a news channel and the party collectively whoops and laughs as images of the empty stadium at the Trump rally run. You seize the distracted moment to take out your laptop and rapidly transcribe everything you can remember Marco saying so you wouldn’t forget it later. Ben and Rose were clearly not in the headspace for these kinds of sensitive communications, but at least this way you’d have it written down somewhere. 

“Wow, are you working?” Kuruk cuts in just as you’re wrapping up the last of your notes. “It’s a party! Ben’s the hero of the hour! How often does that happen?” Kuruk adds with a playful wink.

Rose pops up to his left. “Y/N! Put that away! We’re having  _ fun _ now! Plus Kuruk’s back! Did you know he’s DJing?!”

“it’s only a playlist on my AUX right now, but yeah I have some of my remixes on here.” 

You smile back at them both, finish your last thoughts quickly, then reach out to clink your bottle to Kuruk’s beer. You would circle back to the Marco problem tomorrow.

The relaxed party atmosphere allowed for more casual conversation with Anonymous operatives than usual. Most of them frequently worked head down when they were in and had been a bit slow to open up. Over the course of the next hour, however, you learn much more about the world you have inexplicably joined. For the U.S. west coast operations, Ben Solo was the clear thought and culture leader. By now, you were clearly identified as ‘the girlfriend’ and you notice that as the distinction becomes more known the way people treat you changes accordingly. Although everyone knows about the breach, the general sentiment was that your mission must be extraordinarily important to warrant that kind of interference from one of your targets. You also learn-- in drunken conspiratorial tones-- that when Ben had found out that your mission hadn’t gone as smoothly as planned he went on a bit of a tear, frustrated that the operatives he’d left in charge of your safety had fallen short of his expectations. That meant that while you had been driving yourself a bit crazy with worry, he had been taking care of the situation in his own way. It becomes clear to you that when Ben talks, people fucking listen-- somehow you were growing even more attracted to this man. 

You want him now. But you also don’t want to drag either of you from all the festivities. It had been literal months since you’d been to anything even approximating a party. You’d like to pull him into his office but every room in this place is _all glass_. You didn’t think he would be up for a bathroom quickie-- _or_ _would he?_

Now drunk and buzzing with need, you take out your phone and send Ben a message on Signal.

_ I'm so so SO proud of you… when can I get you alone? I need to show Anonymous my appreciation  _

Ben is chatting with some people a few feet away. You watch him closely as he feels the ping, looks at you questionably since you’re in the same room and then reads the message. He smiles, blushes, rushes to put his phone away so no one can read the note over his shoulder. Then looks in your direction. He is surprised, but you can tell he’s excited. 

You are sitting primly on your desk, legs pressed together, lightly kicking your heels as you sip from your third mini bottle of champagne while absently talking with the operatives scattered loosely around you. You hurriedly send another message on Signal. 

_ Where’s that mask at, btw? _

He reads the second only after taking a step back from his group. He doesn't meet your eyes this time, just starts typing. Hits sends. Puts it away. 

Your phone pings, he had written:  _ Come on then, wild girl. _

Ben excuses himself from the group, then turns and ducks into his office. When he emerges, he gives you a slight nod and then slips out of the front door. You smile to yourself, blush a bit under your mask and bite your lower lip in excitement.  _ What had you just instigated?  _ You wait about a minute and then quit the room as discreetly as you can. 

The door whispers closed and the next moment long firm fingers encircle your wrist. Just as the grip tightens you look up and instantly clench inside seeing a dark fantasy come to life. Anonymous stands before you, exactly as you had envisioned him during your early flirtations-- a towering, masked, dark haired man with his hoodie raised, was waiting to lead you into the dark. He guides you to the stairs of the corridor then up and up and up, until the flight ends on a metal grate landing with only a door leading to the roof. 

You can feel your excited heartbeat in your throat as he pauses on the landing, and you seize the moment to slide eager hands under his shirt running your fingers over his abs and the muscled dip at the curve of his hip bone. He turns toward you and leans back against the brick wall pulling you to him as you lift up his shirt enough to dip your head and graze your mouth over his chest. The ripples of his muscles feel like a gift on your lips. You run your tongue over his pecs, and use your teeth to lightly graze his nipple. He moans softly. “Y/N…” he whispers. 

You reach up and tip his mask back, just a touch, enough to reveal two soft lips. The moment they are exposed you reach behind his neck and crush yours onto them. He moans again and thrusts his tongue into your mouth, kissing you hungrily like a dam had just broken inside of him. You reach down to unfasten his belt and slide your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock, gripping and stroking him slowly. 

“Fuck, beautiful…” he mutters. 

“I want you so badly, Sir…” 

“Mmm,” he moans, “Do you?”

“Yes. I love to see you like this, You deserve some special attention,” you whisper against his lips.

“Mmm is that what this is?” He laughs softly. 

“Yes….” you murmur against his mouth again, before joining your tongue with his again.

Drawing his now hard length entirely out of his pants you begin stroking faster with both hands. Just then you hear the door open a few floors below and footsteps on the stairs. You both freeze. It sounds like it may be Anakin. You cast your eyes down to watch the movements between the gaping spaces in the grate; then realize that if you can see them, with a slight tilt of a head they can see you too. Anakin calls back into the office-- the food delivery has arrived-- then more people emerge clamoring onto the stairs as a group heads down to retrieve the meal. Ben and you press closely to each other, not moving. You are biting your lower lip and blushing. You can't see Ben’s expression under the mask, but he tucks himself away even though his hands don't stop roaming up and down your lower back. When the noise from their sudden intrusion stops he begins kissing your neck in exactly the way that sends chills down your body; you practically melt against him. 

“Come on…” he whispers into your ear, then grabs your hand and draws you forward, pushing open the door to the roof. 

Outside was dark, but a large full moon lit the sky through wispy grey clouds. The view of the city skyline was beautiful and felt private, almost as if it existed for you alone. A sharp wind cuts across the basic flat expanse, and Ben guides you to a small nook, your back pressed against the wall, shielded from the cold. He holds you closely, the warmth radiating off his body keeping the chill at bay. 

“I can't believe I haven’t seen you in this until now.” you say smile wickedly, fingertips grazing the mask.

“It really seems to do it for you,” he says back, and you can hear the smile in his voice as you reclaim your grip on his cock and stroke with a firm grip. 

“It truly does… I just want to give Anonymous what he needs, for working so hard…” you reply tilting your head back to peer up at him. 

“Mmhmm…” he groans softly. 

“What is it that you need, daddy?” you ask sweetly. 

His forearms are leaned up against the wall, you are delightfully sandwiched between the wall and the broad expanse of Ben’s chest.. 

“I need to be inside of you…” he says, his voice a bit muffled by the mask and his quickening breath. 

His large hands slide down to ease up skirt and he places firm but gentle fingers on your clit, starting to rub in small circles and making you arch toward him. Ben watches you from behind the Anonymous mask and for whatever reason it makes you grow even wetter. You lean into the pleasure sighing softly; this was basically a dream-- you cannot believe Anonymous knew exactly how and where to touch you. Ben slowly pulls your panties to the side and eases two fingers into your soaking core. 

“Yes…” you murmur into the hot skin of his neck. You shift your stance to allow him more access, but he glides a large firm hand under one thigh and secures it over his hip, leaning closer to you as he starts to stroke his fingers against your gspot making you gasp. 

“Yes, sir… just like that…” you murmur. You roll your hips forward onto Ben’s hand, his wrist pushing against your clit and sending additional tremors through your body. 

Ben chuckles slightly, “You love this, don’t you?” he murmurs. 

“Yes, sir…” you pant.

“Do you want to feel my cock inside of you?”

“I want your tongue first,” you reply.

“Greedy girl… you want everything don’t you?”

“Please?”

Ben sinks down to crouch, securing your knee over his shoulder, then slides the mask up onto his hair before leaning forward to add the delicious pressure of his tongue to your clit while his fingers continue to move steadily inside of you. You start to shudder at first contact. His strong hands hold you in place, keeping you firmly against his lips, your upper back bracing you against the wall. 

_ “Oh God...” _ you whimper, beginning to come apart. 

Trying to stay quiet, you tilt your head back against the brick, arch your back, point your toes, bite your lip as Ben worships your pussy with his tongue. You dig your nails into his forearms as he holds you closely to his face when you start to tremble. Looking down you see him watching as you break, and swear that you can hear him laugh softly as he furiously licks you the moment before you explode from the inside out. Unable to be silent, you cover your mouth with your hand, and when that is insufficient, bite down onto your palm as you moan from a low place in your throat and buck against Ben’s mouth. One of his large hands grips your ass firmly as you climax, holding you steady and letting you know that he loves it. 

As your first shuddering orgasm recedes another builds in its place. Reaching down to grab hold of Ben’s hair, you come suddenly again, your juices overflowing onto his face, hands and down his wrists. You twist and arch and stretch into it and your mind flashes pure white for a second before you catch your breath and push him back from you, still shuddering, breathing rapidly, reaching for him, somehow ready for more, 

“Fuck me, I need you,” you call to him as he stands. 

Ben turns your hips so you face the wall and lifts your skirt onto your waist, slapping your ass briskly. He presses his chest into your body and wraps an arm around your neck, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. His other arm pulls your panties down to your thighs and positions himself while you hold your breath in anticipation. Ben drives his cock into your dripping wet heat, and you can hear his breath catch in his throat. 

“Goddamn…” he breathes, moving slowly, stretching you open gradually with each thrust. “Y/N… you get so wet for me. I fucking love it. You wanted me all day?  _ Oh… shit--  _ you’re my good girl, huh?” His words reverberate behind the mask which he had slid down, extending the fantasy.

“Yes, daddy,” you sigh, leaning your head back to take the lobe of his ear between your teeth. 

  
With a sharp roll forward of his hips, Ben finally pushes every inch of his massive length inside of you, his wide girth rubbing against all of your most sensitive places. He sinks himself into you so deep you can't help but moan and melt back into his body, your juices overflowing onto your thighs. Every stroke feels deliberate, filling you completely as he finds an unyielding rhythm. Even the feeling of the hot skin of his hips and abs against your ass and lower back gives you chills. Just as you begin to fight the urge to scream, a strong hand grabs onto your throat. 

“Shh-- we have to be quiet, remember? Although you feel so good, baby. Fuck, I know its hard.” 

“Sir… you’re going to make me come, sir.” you gasp quickly in a rush. 

“Oh, no, not yet. Hold it. Not yet, beautiful.” he says gently. 

“Oh, sir--”

“No…” he slaps your ass sharply. 

Immediately your walls clench down tightly against him. “Mmm… thank you, sir.” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome… Now, don’t come until I say…” Ben begins to fuck you faster and you roll your hips in motion with his. You reach behind and run fingers through his loose waves, holding his head close as you struggle to keep your pleasure inside. He was edging you now, but you had already come twice. Your body was inflamed and teetering on the edge while Ben inundated every one of your erogenous zones.

On your next moan, you slide a fingertip under the Anonymous mask and slide one of your digits past his supple lips and into his hot filthy mouth. He moans around your finger and curves his tongue around it, biting then sucking to draw it further inside. He curves the hand on your hip around your thigh, then ever so gently trails the pads of his fingers over your clit. 

“Oh God!” 

“Almost, but not yet Y/N…” he pants. When he does it again you start to tremble despite yourself. You’re clenching wildly against his cock and you can feel it start to twitch inside you as he pumps harder. Ben lets out a low moan himself. 

“Sir, I’m going to come… I can’t anymore…” you confess. 

“Yes-- yes, now, Y/N,” he swirls his digits rigidly over your clit down, and the pressure sends you spasming over the edge. You come all over him the next moment and hear him groan through his own crest. The hand on your neck moves to your mouth in an attempt to stifle your uncontrollable cries. Your walls pulsate wildly around him, gripping and milking his dick to completion as he spills inside of you and across your thighs. How this man could make you feel was almost beyond belief. 

After untold moments of ecstasy, you relax into Ben’s close embrace as you both lean forward against the wall. He has removed the mask completely and is trailing kisses from your collarbone to your hairline. As you blink back to reality you can hear him whispering words of praise. You turn toward him-- his face is flushed red, making his scattered freckles more pronounced. The pale sharp lines of his nose and cheekbones were stark in the moonlight. A bracing gust of wind cuts across the rooftop sending you a different kind of chill. 

“We can’t just go back to the party now,” Ben laughs softly to you. 

“We have to! I’m having such a good time,” you answer honestly. This entire evening was a balm on your spirit after months of semi-isolation. “We need a cover story. We’ll come back with more booze. The good stuff-- fewer questions.”

“Top shelf Tequila? No-- Mezcal,” Ben adds, breathing heavily.

“Yes,” you laugh softly and kiss him fully. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. 

Both of you try to pull yourself together for the walk down to the street and the bodega. As you make it back to the stairway, Ben reaches back for your hand and draws you in for another searing kiss. The way he looks at you before he turns back will be burned into your psyche forever. 

As you languidly descend the stairs you lean close to Ben and say, “I met Marco today.”

He arches an eyebrow at you. “And?” 

“Whatever your instincts say about him-- I think you’re right.”

Ben pushes the front door of the building open, guiding you both onto the sidewalk. 

“This time I’d rather be wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my fav social media posts about the Trump rally are at the underlined links! 
> 
> +In this AU, Kuruk is a Swedish part-time DJ because someone on Twitter said they gave the Knights of Ren names like Ikea furniture.


	21. R&R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is ready for some FLUFF!!! Both hands up— Me me me me me…! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾 
> 
> Ok there’s some plot here too :)

Ben reluctantly pulled himself out of bed with Y/N around noon to go and meet Kuruk for lunch. He tried to invite her to join them, but had only uttered half of the question before she rolled away with a groan and begged for water and Advil with a cute whine. Ben was a bit hungover himself and gladly obliged for the both of them. 

Their top shelf liquor distraction had worked to conceal their somewhat conspicuous absence from the party last night. When they had returned. Kuruk wasted no time setting up a line of shots and devising a game with unclear rules that ultimately led to everyone getting pretty wasted and Rose rapping City Girls with surprising authenticity. In a year as bleak as 2020, last night had definitely been one of the highlights. 

Stepping outside of his building’s security gate, Ben blinked rapidly at the sudden sunlight despite his [ dark heavily mirrored shades ](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fpbs.twimg.com%2Fmedia%2FDa71D99XUAMKgmR.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Ftwitter.com%2F__darkpoet%2Fstatus%2F985996296308768768&tbnid=RbCkvyjnhu9OBM&vet=12ahUKEwjy3dOmoIXrAhXzFjQIHbhpDHsQMygdegUIARDoAQ..i&docid=FGbG9oW4WX0PVM&w=436&h=460&q=adam%20driver%20sunglasses&ved=2ahUKEwjy3dOmoIXrAhXzFjQIHbhpDHsQMygdegUIARDoAQ) , feeling a bit dehydrated but still in a remarkably good mood. The success of his Trump rally mission was exactly the validation he needed after things had gone so sideways during its planning. There had been a few days last week when he was convinced he was a failure as a leader, an operative _and_ a boyfriend. His heart had been heavy at the thought of dramatically losing Y/N just as he felt himself falling from deep infatuation into something stronger and more permanent. He’d been bracing for another semi-public breakup and the ensuing speculation about his private life, this time probably solidifying his reputation as-- well, he wasn't sure as _what_ exactly, but definitely nothing flattering. Perhaps a man that smart, well put-together women routinely left? 

Mercifully, he had been able to avoid a cascade of conspicuous defeats, most importantly salvaging his relationship with Y/N. When she had gone dark on him he realized his connection was far deeper than he had realized. He and Y/N had amazing chemistry, which was obvious from their very first interactions. But seeing her enthusiastically open up to join his world-- which he recognized could be intense and demanding-- led him to think there was a real future here. Not only was she running point on one of their most high profile projects, it was clear that she and Rose had established a friendship and she had even formed a bond with Anakin while he was away. 

The confusion about Rey and Poe were anomalies he was comfortable putting behind them. Both situations could have been avoided if they had just been up front with each other. Ben’s years of working with Anonymous meant that transparency and open communication were not exactly his strong points, but he knew he would need to improve to keep her. The past few days with Y/N had confirmed his belief that there was something real here worth holding on to. Ben wondered how closely her feelings towards him mirrored his own. He didn’t want to come off as too eager. He had already introduced so many complications into her life, he didn’t want to scare her off further by declaring anything too prematurely. 

By the time Ben walked up to the expansive outdoor patio of his newly reopened favorite burger spot, Kuruk had already arrived and was casually sipping a beer. Ben noticed there was another one resting on the other side of the table waiting for him. Nodding his head in greeting to Kuruk and feeling a moment of pain in his head, he immediately asked the server for a water as well. 

Of all his friends, Kuruk was probably the most naturally extroverted. He had a life of the party energy that was contagious. They had founded their startup senior year of college and after they sold it two years ago Kuruk had leaned heavily into his music and DJing while Ben had devoted most of his time to rebuilding Anonymous. Kuruk ducked in and out of the Anonymous work and was fascinated by it, but his passion was clearly in music… and/or the nightlife of the international jet set that came with it. Ben recognized that he was an introvert by nature, but being around Kuruk’s energetic charm always elevated his mood. It was great to have him back in town. Sitting down at the table, he was amazed by how inconceivably good it felt to just meet one of best friends at a restaurant for a meal. 

“Damn, it’s so good to be back! How are you man?” Kuruk asks jubilantly. 

Ben says, “Good! Great! Although things have definitely been quieter without you around.”

“Whatever, dude. I’ve been in deep quarantine with my entire family for four months down in LA, and when I get back you’ve completely sabotaged the Trump political campaign and have a beautiful new woman on your arm. I should probably leave town more often!” Kuruk laughs.

Ben laughed too. “The Trump mission was really a team effort. And honestly, our group just laid the foundation. The Kpop fans and TikTok community did most of the work. I'm just glad it caught on.” 

“Bullshit! But fine.” Kuruk laughs and another sip. “And Y/N-- did she also just kind of fall into your lap?”

_More like fell into my DM’s_ … Ben thinks immediately, but he smiles into his cup instead. “She had an interest in supporting the movement. So she got in touch.” 

Kuruk smirked a bit as he picked up the menu. 

“Anyway, she’s been a huge help to Rose. And-- we’re happy.” Ben finishes, feeling a bit vulnerable. 

“Well I’m happy for you. She seems like fun. You could use a bit of fun. You’re always a bit self serious. Come on, you know I’m right! It's good that she can help loosen you up. Balance is important. That’s why we always made good roommates, right? Remember that semester when I roomed with Ap’lek? That was a fucking disaster.” Kuruk laughs uproariously and Ben joins. “Does Y/N have a friend? Or a roommate? I am tragically single at the moment.”

“Not for long, I’m sure,” Ben adds, taking a sip of his beer. “You’re right, though. Y/N is a lot of fun.” Thinking of last night on the roof Ben felt a rush of heat go through him. “Our work has been so heavy lately, it’s nice to have her with me.” 

When the waiter approaches they replace their masks and order the usual combos. This spot was equidistant between both of their homes and they had eaten countless meals here over the years. During their tech days, they had even taken client meetings on this patio.

“Hold on, circling back for a second-- did you meet this smart, funny girl who’s into you for whatever reason,” Kuruk laughs sardonically, “and then put her to work with the group immediately?”

Ben pauses mid sip; he hadn’t considered it that way. “Well…”

“Are you serious?! And she’s on the anti-dictator beat with Rose? That’s like, some of the most intense shit we do.”

Ben felt defensive. “Yeah, but-- I mean it's high profile work! I know she thinks it's interesting, She’s getting recognized for it.” 

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. You two obviously deserve each other,” Kuruk chuckles. “I'm just saying-- you just had this big win, you deserve a break. Take some time off. Go up to my family’s cabin up in Sea Ranch. No one’s been up there-- shit, this entire year! How sad is that. Bring Y/N and go be human for a bit. Me and Rose can keep things running here.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. I haven’t taken time off since…” 

“Yeah, I know.” Kuruk nods. “Think about it. It’ll be good for you.” 

Ben nods. If Y/N could take time off from the cafe maybe they could even take two weeks? 

Kuruk cuts through his thoughts. “I heard you really lit into the group over the breach.”

“Is that what they’re saying?” Ben asked warily. 

“Hey-- everyone gets it! The program wasn’t as air tight as it should have been. They didn't expect this mission to trigger such a severe response from the firm. But we know now. It won’t happen again. Trust me! No one wants to see the dark side of Ben Solo if they can help it.”

“They put her in danger,” Ben says in a low tone, looking into his glass. 

From Ben’s perspective, the breach had made the whole operation look sloppy. It was evidence of poor leadership from him _and_ the senior operatives. Plus it had made Y/N feel like he was an uncaring partner for leaving her to handle it while he was away. Hell-- he had almost lost her over it. He had many reasons to be pissed off about the situation and wouldn’t apologize for letting people know it. If something happened to Y/N because of him and what he’d brought her into he would never forgive himself. And he would handle the issue on his own in an uninhibited way-- not through the group; definitely not through just hacking. Kuruk looks at him closely and Ben can tell he understands. They’d been friends since they were 18 years old, sometimes they didn’t need to communicate out loud. 

“Have you upgraded the security at her place?”

“Yes, I did that this week.”

“Alright. She’ll be fine. Maybe get her a stun gun?”

Ben looks up surprised. “You think they would do more than some privacy violations? Do you think this thing could escalate to something physical?”

Kuruk shrugs and leans back. “I’m not sure! I only caught up with Rose a bit yesterday before the alcohol delivery for the party. But Starkiller LLC-- they’re serious. That’s the security firm you use when you have something big to hide. And when you are ready to protect that information at all cost.”

“Hmm,” Ben responds listening. There may be more than one reason to get Y/N out of dodge in the short term. Rose was planning to launch her mission soon. It might be better if Y/N wasn’t in town when that happened. 

Kuruk says, “You know Cardo is heading down to Portland.”

“Oh, really? I heard things are heating up there. Do you think it will get as bad as it was in Seattle? I know things have settled down some since they created the Autonomous Zone.”

“Hard to know, really. But Vicrul said he’s been monitoring some signals that indicate the Feds might go down there.” Kuruk shook his head soberly, draining his beer. 

“To Portland?!” Ben said aghast. “What Feds? They don’t have any jurisdiction to suppress a protest movement.” 

“Vicrul mentioned ICE. Maybe Border Control. DHS, generally.”

“What the fuck?!” Ben exclaims shocked and enraged. “That’s illegal! There’s no fucking border in Portland!” 

“Yeah, well... Cardo’s going to go scope it out himself and report back. I'm sure the rest of the Field Team will follow if things escalate.” 

“Goddamn these fucking nazis, man. I really don’t know what this administration is trying to accomplish,” 

“Fascism, mostly.” Kuruk replies quickly without missing a beat. 

Ben sighs heavily. “How the hell did we get here?” 

“Who the fuck knows. Oh look, our food is here. I’m going to order us another round-- and also a margarita for me. You?” 

“How are you still going?!” Ben laughs. “Sure, fine. Since apparently I need to relax.”

Kuruk calls out, “Excuse me-- make that two!”

*** 

The combination of more Advil and hair of the dog had Ben feeling almost back to normal by the time he left lunch with Kuruk. He intended to stop by the office just to make sure they hadn’t left things in too disastrous a condition last night, and to check in with Rose if she was around. 

Stepping inside, there were bottles and solo cups scattered on every surface, some rolling on their sides across sticky bamboo floors. Doing a quick scan, he was glad that they’d at least taken the remnants of the food delivery downstairs so he didn’t need to worry about ants. 

The office was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, and Ben was about to turn around and walk home when he spotted what he guessed was a deeply hungover Rose at a far corner desk; not her usual spot, but the absolute furthest you could get from the light filled windows. She was wearing her hoodie up, oversized shades and noise canceling headphones. She had also draped a blanket over the back of her chair and her shoulders. Ben laughed to himself and approached her slowly, trying not to startle her. Gently he reached out and tapped her arm. 

Rose jumped back spooked— “Oh shit! Hey, Ben. Ugh, this is what happens when Kuruk gets back, am I right?”

“He’s consistent! I actually just had lunch with him, he is the only one of us still standing upright today.” 

“I don’t know how he does it.” Rose says, sitting up and wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. 

“He trains for this all year in Ibiza. We’re no match for him.”

Rose nods while reaching across the desk to take two painkillers with a pamplemousse La Croix. Ben notices four empty La Croix cans lined up next to it, Rose was on a serious mission for hydration.

“Y/N just sent me some notes on Marco, for the leaderboard.”

Ben nods, she must be awake then. And working, he thinks. He would have liked for her to get some rest today. He hoped she didn’t think she had to match his pace to be a valued part of Anonymous. Maybe he _was_ pushing her too hard? Time away up the coast was seeming better every minute. 

Rose continues: “This is really great context. I think she’s almost done with it. Once she wraps that I have a few other streams I need to collect from other teams then I just have to decide how we’re going to spread this information.” Rose taps her fingers along the desk. “What are _you_ doing here right now, by the way? You just had a major public win and everyone except apparently Kuruk is in pain hungover from last night. You should be in bed ordering delivery like a normal person. Do you ever take time off?”

“I’m sensing a trend today. That’s what Kuruk said. Maybe you both are right.”

“WE ARE.” Rose starts a laugh but it ends in a groan, she raises a hand to her head. “Once I get the finished leaderboard from Y/N I’ve got it from here. And Kuruk can handle the day to day. For a week or two anyway. After that our whole operation may descend into a beer pong league. But you should definitely get out of town if you want to. I know you think I’m all work all the time, but if we’re still quarantined by Labor Day I’m relocating to Hawaii.”

“Wow! What does Kaydel think about that?” As independent as Rose was here in the office, Ben knew she would never make a major decision like that without consulting her girlfriend. 

“It was her idea!” Rose smiles. “She thinks I spend too much time here. Like you! She may be right. But trust me, there will be no more hiccups while you’re gone. Our team has tightened up the ship! We’ve got this.”

“Alright. But if I really decide to go, I’m taking time _off._ Completely. You won’t even hear from me.” Ben says turning toward the exit to leave. 

“Good!” Rose shouts playfully. 

*** 

Ben and Y/N had been at the [ Sea Ranch cottage ](https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/30855358?source_impression_id=p3_1596739896_I%2BrZFPV2c47O%2FkSk) for close to two weeks now, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this peaceful. In addition to leaving the Anonymous work in the capable hands of Rose and Kuruk, Y/N had dared him to try a social media cleanse, meaning no Twitter, IG, Facebook or TikTok. They both started with a goal of three days and planned to see how it went from there; so far they were up to day eleven. While it had been disorienting at first, now that he had adjusted he felt remarkably calmer. 

The wooden cottage was nestled among low rolling hills and cypress trees. Every west facing wall had oversized glass panel windows showcasing the breathtaking ocean views. Early in the day, soft grey mists covered the horizon but it burned off in mid-morning to beautiful summer days. Sea Ranch was sparsely populated-- even more so this year during a modified quarantine-- so Ben and Y/N rarely bumped into neighbors during their afternoon hikes along the trails that criss crossing the secluded cliffside dunes. Ben started taking long jogs in the morning just to take in the quiet. He would have welcomed Y/N’s company, but the one time she joined she had quit with light-hearted theatrics after two miles and since then left him to his own devices before 9am, In turn, Y/N generally used her mornings to do yoga outside on the deck. Many days when he returned from his run she had coffee for two waiting. It was just a small thing, but it warmed his heart every time. Their days were languid and unstructured in a way that was deeply unfamiliar to him, but the tranquility was addicting. The more he let go, the more he enjoyed it. 

To replace this loss of media, Y/N had brought a stack of novels pulled from his own bookcases; titles he had purchased with the intent of reading but had never gotten around to starting. They had nothing but time now. He had finished [ Say Nothing ](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40163119-say-nothing) , a riveting look inside the struggle for Northern Ireland and had just started on a collection of Hemingway short stories. Y/N had breezed through [ Ninth House ](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43263680-ninth-house?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=ZqlAHNPA38&rank=1) and had moved on to [ The Fifth Season ](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19161852-the-fifth-season?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=gNyw9FOq5n&rank=1), a Hugo Award winning dystopian fantasy that she was yearning to talk about but also didn’t want to spoil for him, resulting in her starting excited sentences and then backtracking not wanting to give away the plot. 

Food delivery was limited near Sea Ranch, so the time away had also been an expansion of Ben’s somewhat limited cooking abilities. He was adept at most egg dishes and dutifully took on breakfast as his responsibility for them both. Lunches were simple sandwiches or remixed leftovers. But in the evenings, Y/N enthusiastically worked through a collection of complex recipes pulled from her favorite food blogs with mostly successful results. 

Tonight she was preparing a whole roasted chicken with potatoes and carrots while he read quietly on the sofa. The sun had set about twenty minutes past, and a blue-orange twilight was creeping across the sky. Y/N closes the oven and sets a timer on her phone. Looking over his shoulder, Ben extends a hand to her. She smiles, then walks over to him and places her palm in his. He tilts his head up to kiss her lips then encircles her waist with his large hands and lifts her up and over the sofa’s edge onto his chest. 

“Ah!” she exclaims, cheerfully. 

“How’s it going in there?” Ben asked, stroking her hair out of her face and shifting so her head rested on his shoulder. 

“Seems good so far. It’s a [Barefoot Contessa recipe](https://barefootcontessa.com/recipes/perfect-roast-chickens-updated), you usually can’t go wrong with those. It was almost too simple though? Like, I feel like there should be more for me to do?”

“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Ben adds, draping an arm around her back. She always felt so good against him. It had been a long time since he’d regularly had this kind of soft affection. He and Rey had admittedly been workaholics and frequently long distance; but she also wasn’t exactly the cuddly type by nature. With Y/N however, it seemed like any time he reached for her she was happy to come to him; when he pulled her close she nuzzled against his body; when he left gentle kisses on her skin or stroked her hair she sighed softly. It filled him with a profound confidence in a hidden place where he didn’t realize he was insecure. 

“I know we’re doing a social media detox and not working, but I have to tell you-- I checked my email today.” Y/N said in the tone of a confession. 

“That’s OK! It’s your game, anyway.” Ben said with a grin. Then seeing her furrowed brow, he sat up a bit to look into her face more clearly. “Uh-oh, what did you read?”

“So before we left you know how I sent over the leaderboard and my notes from the Zoom with that creepy firm partner?” 

Ben nods.

“So my part is done, but Rose sent me an update on how the plan is coming together overall. Beyond just my piece. Anyway, clearly that creep I spoke to is on the list of people we’re going to burn. But based on the criteria Rose established… so is Marco.” 

Ben strokes her lower back gently in an effort to calm her. “We kind of expected that though, right?” 

“Maybe. I was really hoping not. I feel like I have to say something to James. I- I really don’t want him getting hurt.”

Ben sighs. “There may not be a way to avoid that, sweetheart. Would James really want to be with someone that’s involved with that kind of thing anyway?”

Y/N bites her lip thoughtfully. 

“I honestly thought you would have warned him by now, before things got so serious between them. You knew that I had been monitoring Marco?” he says gently. 

“When you said James should be careful with his boyfriend I thought you meant he already had a husband back in Brazil! Or a wife!” Y/N says emotionally. 

“What?” Ben asks perplexed. “Why would Anonymous be tracking _that_?” he asks with genuine confusion. 

Y/N laughed. “Ben! When you hear a friend's boyfriend might be a bad guy it’s not intuitive to assume he’s part of an international money laundering scheme linked to state sponsored fascists paramilitaries! I thought it would be something normal!” 

“You would be surprised how many of the horrible things we track are considered ‘normal’.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, you know what I mean,” she replies, smacking his arm in mock outrage. “It’s just so weird like-- I’ve had drinks with him. He seems nice! And James is so happy.”

“Yeah I know.” Ben sighs too. “We knew that this was a possibility...” He sinks his fingers deep into her hair and begins massaging her scalp. There wasn’t much to say. The mission of Anonymous was to take down corruption where you find it and let the consequences fall where they may. Neither one of them could have anticipated it would cut this close to home though. 

“When are you launching?” Ben asks softly. 

“I’m not sure exactly. Soon. Rose is pulling together the threads from the other operatives. She’s waiting on a report from the LATAM team.”

She looks worried. Ben places a kiss on her forehead. “Hey-- it will be OK. There may be a way for you to give James a heads up before the mission goes live." 

Y/N is quiet, still in her head, probably still thinking about James. Ben sets his lips in a hard line. There was no way to pull back now and no way to protect Marco from the fallout. Moreover, he knew Y/N didn’t really want to. She knew better than anyone what these people had done. She was committed to this cause and a part of the movement was to make hard decisions and stick by them. Even with that in mind, however, it didn't make the reality of the situation any easier. Ben holds her closely, stroking her soothingly until the timer goes off and their dinner is done. 

As usual, everything was perfectly prepared. Y/N was vocally excited by how well the recipe had worked out and began texting Mels about her latest culinary success as soon as they finished eating. Now she was now arranging the items on the table at interesting angles trying her hand at food photography. Ben smiled to himself, glad her mood was improving from earlier. Knowing that Y/N was probably still feeling anxious, though, he ducked outside to turn on the hot tub and put a bottle of an excellent sauvignon blanc from a Healdsburg winery in the wine chiller. Gmail may not be social media, but it had cut through their domestic bliss and he planned on restoring it tonight. 

As Ben busied himself on the deck, he heard Y/N now on Facetime with Mels and Kiana, first giving a play by play of the Barefoot Contessa recipe and then taking them on a walking tour of the cottage. That was nice. He was glad he could provide a vacation for her that was impressive enough to show to her friends. As she made her way back downstairs, he heard someone on the call say “Hey, where is Ben anyway?” 

He steps back inside, his preparations done. “Hi, ladies,” he says with a wave.

“Ooo hi Ben!” and “Hey, Ben!” They call in unison. He knows he’s being evaluated, but by the exaggerated flirtation in their voices he assumes that he passes the grade. 

“Were you outside?” Y/N asks curiously.

“Yeah, I, uh-- was planning something,” he says with a smile. 

“Y/N, I think you need to go,” says Kiana giggling. 

“Y/N I think Ben wants you back, babe,” Mels agrees. 

Y/N blushes adorably as her friends tease her gently. 

Ben hears a chorus of “Bye now!” and “Have fun!” and then she hangs up. 

Y/N turns to face him. “So-- what did you have in mind?”

_(To be continued shortly!)..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Deleted flashback scene, all via text message a few days before this chapter** 
> 
> Rose: Hey, can you come back to SF? Ben’s losing his shit over the breach. It kind of burned his new gf and you know how he gets about his EMOTIONS... 
> 
> Kuruk: LOL He probably just needs a bit of time off, He’s been working nonstop since things fell apart with Rey 
> 
> Rose: I know! So why don’t YOU tell him that then
> 
> Kuruk: Ha! Fine. I’ve weathered some Ben Solo rage in my day and I’m still standing. I’ll start driving tomorrow. See you soon 
> 
> Rose: Thx thx thx xoxoxoxo 
> 
> ~~~~ 
> 
> ALSO: I strongly recommend all of the books I mentioned in this chapter! And also Barefoot Contessa’s roasted chicken recipe :)


	22. R&R pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After FLUFF comes… smut? ::shrug::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! Writing this was the serotonin boost I needed this week! Hope it works for you all as well :)

“Come on, beautiful,” Ben calls, reaching for you. You fold both of your hands around his large one, so charmed by his tone that you nearly float outside to the deck. 

The private outdoor enclave has been lined with illuminating tea lights along the low wall and the floor creating a path casting the entire scene in a soft glow. The hot tub was on and a wispy steam rose from the bubbling water. A gentle breeze blew up from the beach but rather than give you a chill it merely accentuated the warmth of the romantic haven Ben had created. You turn to face him, gripping his shirt lightly in your hands and look up at him beaming. 

“You did all this for me?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I really did a good job with dinner, huh?” You tease, as he wraps his arms around your lower back. 

“You did,” he smiles and kisses you softly. “But this isn’t for that. I would have done it if we had ramen.”

You give a short laugh. “Ok. You’re just feeling romantic tonight, then? Thank you.”

He kisses you again, his tongue entering your mouth wanting to taste you, teasing your own slowly, His kiss makes you moan and practically melt into his arms. You feel desperate for him, as if you hadn’t had him inside of you every day of this trip, Frequently more than once. Something about the natural beauty of this place or the blissfully long stretches of unscheduled hours made you insatiable. 

Your fingers deftly begin working the buttons on his shirt, and when you're done you slide the fabric off of his skin so it pools at his feet. He unfastens your jeans and slides them off of you, then lifts your shirt over your head. You stand in only lacy underwear, goosebumps on your skin from the temperature outside and the feeling of his hands on your body. 

Ben walks you backward so you’re against the staircase to the hot tub, kissing your mouth, neck, breasts. He jerks his head in the direction of the stairs and you begin to ascend them, but both of his hands hold onto your panties as you go, pulling them off of you as you climb. You turn your head to smile at him across your shoulder; for a brief triumphant moment you are elevated over him, nude, in only the soft light of the flickering candles while the moonlight shines over the darkly rippling ocean. Every nerve in your body feels alive; alert; electrified. Ben watches you with heady emotion in his eyes, seeming to memorize your every curve in this moment.

With a flush in your cheeks, you climb in and settle into the hot water. It’s instantly soothing. The only sound you can hear is the faint crash of the waves against the cliffs, the bubbling of the water and your own unhurried breathing. It is a moment of absolute serenity.

Ben climbs in a moment later also fully nude, and lounges sideways along the seat pulling you into his arms, your back against his chest. 

“Do you feel good, kitten?” he asks gently, tracing a few errant strands of hair off of your face then stroking your head. 

“Yes,” you purr back at him. 

“Good. Do you want to add no more email to our social media detox?”

“ _YES_ ,” you intone dramatically. 

You had checked it against your better judgment anyway, and it had immediately sent you into a bit of a mental spiral. Work could wait; the harsh realities of the world could wait too. You would only have the next three days here, and a multitude of difficult decisions waited for you back in real life. 2020 was merciless and unrelenting; taking this time for yourself was necessary to keep up the strength to fight back against it. 

Ben nuzzles against your ear with his face, and at your soft moan places a kiss on your neck, using his tongue to gather the splashes of hot water there. You close your eyes as one of his large hands caress your hips, belly, and thighs. The other reaches up into the roots of your hair and turns your head to face him so he can kiss you again. You are ready for more. 

You lean into his lips, so lost in the feeling of his tongue against yours that you barely notice when he reaches outside of the hot tub. You don’t hear anything over the bubbles of the water. Then something firm but soft begins to vibrate on your inner thigh. For an instant you think you imagined it; but it continues, making you shiver against him. 

  
Against his lips you whisper, “Ben, is that…?”

He smiles against your mouth and nods. “Yes. I got a present for you. I forgot I brought it with us. Figured it could help bring you back into a vacation mood.”

“I’ve never used one of those,” you tell him blushing. 

“ _Really_? My wild girl has never used a vibrator? I’m surprised.” he smiles. 

“I’m pretty good with my hands…” you whisper into his neck. 

Ben laughs. “Yes. You are,” he grins widely. “Do you want to try it?”

You nod, uncharacteristically feeling a bit shy. 

“Alright. Let’s start at the lowest level, ok? I think there’s five on here.” he lifts it out of the water so you can take a look. 

It’s not the kind of device that came to mind when you think ‘vibrator’. It's rounded in a soft boomerang shape, smaller than your hand, in a happy pink color. It pulsates quietly in Ben’s palm as you bite your lip in anticipation. 

“Do you want to feel it again?” he asks gently. 

You smile and nod as he presses it to your breast, the curved tip just under your nipple. Rather than a hard plastic, the vibe was made of silicon and feels nice against your skin. The vibrations are stimulating and make you arch immediately; you lean your head even deeper into the hollow of Ben’s neck and shoulder. 

“Ooo… she likes that…” Ben says in a low tone. 

“I do, sir…” 

Ben trails the vibe gradually around one nipple, then slowly down your torso to circle your bellybutton giving you chills that make you ticklish and giggly. Gradually, he moves the vibe back up your body to your other stiff peak, circling again. You are grinding against him now, seeking friction. Ready for him to escalate. But he keeps tracing the vibe in steady, slow, patterns over your breasts, then your neck. You are growing needy and impatient; you want to touch yourself, but know that would spoil the game. 

“Oh, this is torture,” you whine. “I’m so wet… sir, please make me come,” you sigh directly into the shell of Ben’s ear.

“Mmm, you asked so nicely. Like such a good girl…” Ben says, finally moving the vibe back down, this time to your hip, then your inner thigh. “How could I not give you exactly what you want?”

“Mmhmm… please give me what I want, sir,” you beg lightly, sliding your right leg off the bench and onto the floor of the pool creating more space for him to work. 

“Here you go, love,” he murmurs just as he presses the sweet stimulation between your legs. 

_Did he just call you love?!_ Your mind echoes but the thought is drowned out immediately by the shockwaves of pleasure that begin coursing through you. 

“Mmm-- Oh!” You gasp at contact, and both of your hands reach down to cover his, holding his hand steady, keeping the vibe pressed tightly against you. 

“Oh… you _do_ like it,” Ben whispers. “Do you want a little more? Maybe take it up to two?”

“ _Yes_ ,” you breathe. 

Ben presses a button and the vibe moves faster; at this speed each breath becomes a moan and you begin to writhe around. Ben’s other arm is wrapped across your chest, keeping you pressed against him, his palm on your opposite shoulder. His lips are against your ear. Your noises arouse him and you can hear his breath begin to quicken too. When you grind back against him you feel that his cock has grown hard against your butt and low back. 

“Sir, I like my present,” you call softly with a wicked smile. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Hold it,” he says, transferring the vibe to your hands, and sliding one of his long fingers slowly-- teasingly!-- into your slit. 

“Oh…!” is all the sound you can elicit, arching your hips up off of the seat. Undeterred, Ben chuckles to himself and adds another finger inside of your core. 

“There she goes.” he mutters. “God, I can't wait to fuck this tight little pussy,” Ben hisses into your ear as you grind against his hand. “I can’t get enough of you.” 

You are so close. So dangerous close. Feeling reckless, you turn the vibe up one more notch. 

“Ahh-ahhh!” you cry out instantly. The vibe didn’t get faster this time, but the pressure and intensity changed; the rhythm altered. 

The pleasure was staggering. You collapse back down into the seat, beginning to shake, arching back into Ben’s chest. His large palm takes control of the vibrator, keeping it pressed against your mound while his fingers continue to stroke that delicious spot inside of you. Your hands freed from their essential work, one hand reaches up to hold on to Ben’s face as you begin to break. He is watching you closely, damp hair clinging to his forehead, tracking every wave of pleasure through your body as it animates your expression. 

“God… I'm going to come so hard…” you whisper, tears already beginning to pool on your eyelashes.

“Don’t wake the neighbors,” Ben says in a low growl, mocking you gently-- the closest neighbors were at least a mile away. The caress of his breath into your ear sends a tremble down your body, the final element that completely sets you off. 

You start to scream, unable to control it as your orgasm hits you forcefully. Ben’s free hand clasps around your mouth, stifling it, but in your ecstasy-fueled mania you bite him. 

“ _Oh, fuck,_ ” you hear him mutter softly from your other plane of reality, but he doesnt let you go as you continue to shake and moan. 

Leaning closely into your ear Ben talks you through your climax: “There’s a good girl. Ride it all the way out. Yes… all the way. You really like this! You should give me two, I think. You dirty girl…. I’m so fucking lucky. Oh-- shit you’re still trembling?”

“Mmhmm!” you squeak out, grabbing Ben behind the neck. 

“Come again then. Hmm I _knew_ it. I knew you’d love this. You’re so pretty when you come. So _so_ beautiful.” Ben murmurs all through your second peak. 

Only then do you push his hand and the vibe away from you. Feeling glorious and almost ready for bed. _Almost_. 

Your entire body feels limp and you want to just curl up in Ben’s lap. So that’s exactly what you do. Wrapping both of your arms around his neck you turn around and straddle him, falling forward, leaning your head on his shoulder. He pivots in his seat and wraps his strong arms around you to hold you close, whispering praises as you catch your breath and recover. 

When you are ready, you kiss him deeply while he runs his hands and nails over your back. His soft lips are exactly what you need. Well— mostly. 

“I need your cock inside of me. Now,” you command softly, reaching for it with both hands.

“ _Now_ , is it?” Ben asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“ _Yes_ ,” you respond defiantly, beginning to raise yourself over him and positioning him underneath you. 

“Fuck. Yes, ma’am,” Ben says with a grin. 

You sink down onto him quickly and begin riding him hard; fucking him with a passion and ferocity that you hadn’t felt until just that moment. You feel absolutely wild, bouncing up and down on Ben’s dick and gripping him with your kegels. His head lolls back against the end of the hot tub and he closes his eyes to groan loudly-- almost a roar. 

“Shhh-- don’t wake the neighbors,” you repeat back to him with a smile and give him a hearty slap on cheek. 

“Mmm…!” he exclaims. Then looks at you with sparkling eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll be quiet,” he says softly with a devilish smile.

“Good boy,” you whisper against his lips, beginning to ride him faster. You are clutching the back of his neck with one hand while the other clings to the hard ridges of his shoulder blades. 

Ben bites his lip, holding back any noise. He grabs your ass tightly, digging into the flesh. His other hand fists your hair. His face flushes a deep pink. He moans low despite his best efforts. 

“Who do you belong to?” you whisper suddenly into his ear. You don’t know where this came from— as soon as the words floated into your mind they just poured out of your mouth! 

“ _Fuck, Y/N…_ ” Ben mutters. “ _Shit--_ I belong to you. You know that.” 

“Mmhmm… you do.” Not slowing your movements, you reach for the vibe again, resting on the edge of the tub. Turning it on to level one, you sink it below the water. But rather than add it back to your clit, you tuck it gently under Ben’s balls. 

He makes a desperate sound at contact and looks at you wide eyed before gripping your hips until you can feel his nails dig into your skin. He closes his eyes tightly shut, his mouth making an ‘O’ shape. 

“Look at me, Ben,” you call to him in a honeyed voice. 

When he does you can tell he is coming apart. Your walls clench down on his cock and you can feel it throb inside you as his arms wrap around your back as tightly as he can, pulling you fully against his body, his face buries into your breasts while he begins to fuck up into you meeting your hips as you bounce down. You cling to him desperately and he moves rhythmically beneath you.

“Ah!” You cry, as his stroke seems to stretch your very walls, stuffing him into the deepest parts of your cunt. 

The tears that had threatened earlier now spill over your lashes. Ben makes a tender sound when he sees it and reaches up to your face, tracing a thumb across your cheek, wiping one away. Softly, he kisses the tear trails just beneath each eye. In that moment under the bright stars and dark skies you feel an otherworldly closeness to him. Another profound release is imminent. 

When you come moments later, it’s silent and physical. Your body shakes from the inside out. A wave of your come floods around his cock and your walls pulsate rapidly gripping him tightly inside of you. Ben roars loudly again, only this time you’re too enraptured to chastise him. He holds you against his taut body, continuing to thrust while you quiver and moan into his ear. 

Just as you begin to return to this Earth, Ben comes powerfully, gasping desperately into your chest. 

“ _OH GOD_ …” he mutters into the softness of your breasts. 

You feel him spill messily into you while he pumps through his release. It seems to go on and on. When he finally stills, he holds you on his lap, staying sheathed inside of you. You toss the vibe away. One of his hands rests on the back of your head, keeping you folded around him. As he descends from his peak, you hear him say your name three times, each one the breath of prayer. 

“Ben… Ben…” you whisper back to him in between your rapid breathing. 

Ben shifts and pulls you to his awaiting mouth. He kisses you like you’re the air he needs to survive. 

“I love you.” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Good,” you reply, eyes shining. “I love you too.”


	23. Not Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N + Ben try to cling to their ~vacation vibes~ while being dragged back into the real world and all its bullshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The romantic fluff continues! I can’t stop myself now, sorry (not sorry)! 
> 
> But also— PLOT PLOT PLOT! 
> 
> \+ a bit of smut too for good measure!

You sip your coffee outside on the deck wrapped in a soft sweater over your pj’s watching the fog drift down the coastline. This was your last tranquil morning at Sea Ranch. Your laptop is open in front of you and you stare at your inbox with trepidation, not ready for the romantic isolation to end. With a sigh, you start with updates from Rose.

Three days ago she officially launched your mission, releasing dozens of damning internal files from Exogol Industries that exposed corruption, money laundering and links to controversial military and paramilitary forces. Rose sent the information directly to reporters and media outlets while Ben’s team flooded social media with snippets of the most compelling findings. The story gained traction in the news and online, although it was having a bigger impact globally than in the U.S. Journalists and commentators on the story were demanding investigations, accountability and oversight. If even one prosecutor was intrigued enough to begin an investigation into the firm then Anonymous would consider it a win. 

The leaderboard you had painstakingly constructed was the guiding document for all of the next steps. Rose and Ben had decided to release the evidence in waves to keep it in the press for as long as possible. Whenever the media interest in the initial story began to wane, Rose planned to start releasing the names of the most culpable conspirators, It may spook the targets you were tracking to change their behavior for the better-- one could hope at least. More likely, though, it might sow dissension in their ranks and draw out whistleblowers from the inside. The more evidence that was publicly known the harder it would be for these actors to deny it, minimize it or obfuscate the truth. 

Although you didn't know exactly when the next wave of information would drop, the time to talk to James about Marco was now. It was early morning and Ben was still out on a run. You send James a text to confirm he’s awake. As you wait to see if he responds, you reason that if the conversation starts to take a bad turn you could just say you were giving him a heads up that you’re driving back to the city today. James writes back that he’s up and free to chat. Then with a deep breath you open Facetime. 

“Hey, Y/N! _Imagine_ hearing from you! Are you running away to live in the woods or wherever you are? Not that I blame you. I hear the place where you’re staying is _nice--_ funny how Mels and Kiana get a live tour and I _don’t_? UNFAIR.” James says in a rapid uninterrupted flow. 

You laugh. “James! HI! How are things?”

“I’m good. Nothing new to report over here. Although Marco’s trying to get me into capoeira-- you know, Brazilian martial arts? It's hot that _he_ does it, but you know I’m very much an indoor cat.”

You smile at that; you’d missed him. 

“Anyway, I’m giving it a go!” he continues. “The things you do for love!”

_James was in love now?!_ Your first thought is a happy glow for your best friend but a moment later you remember the reason you were calling in the first place-- _OH NO._ A flutter of butterflies starts to build in your stomach. 

“I feel you. Ben tried to make me a runner when we got out here,” 

James chuckles, “How long did that last?”

“I went twice! We hike together though,” You take a deep breath and as casually as you can manage ask, “Hey-- did you see those headlines about Exogol Industries? Isn’t that crazy?”

“YES! Your boyfriend Anonymous has been _all over_ this story,” James teases. 

Your eyes widen in shock until it dawns on you that he's joking. Quickly, you try to play it off with a smile. 

He continues, “I was reading the headlines and thinking about you! Thank God you don’t have them on your resume now.” 

“Yeah...” You take a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._ “Listen-- I know Marco said he works with that firm, do you think he’ll be OK?” you ask gently. “Do you know anything about his work with them?” 

James looks at you curiously. Pauses. “What?” 

“Uh…” you stutter, now wishing you had made this a normal phone call rather than Facetime where James can see every emotion play across our face. 

“Well, he just, um-- when I met Marco he said he worked with Exogol Industries on their global business--”

“Oh! Hm. He hasn’t mentioned anything.” James says warily. 

“Oh ok! I mean, I was just asking…” you trail off. This was getting awkward.

“Mmhmm,” James says, eyeing you closely. 

You hadn’t exactly scripted how you thought this would go, but this stilted half conversation was not it. Maybe this would have to wait until you were in person. 

Just then you spot Ben jogging back to the cottage. He was shirtless, his body glistening with sweat from his exertions, a slight flush in his face. His hair was long enough now to be pulled back completely into a short pony and although he’d clearly done it quickly and functionally for his run it was sexy as hell. 

James notices your gaze drift off away from the phone. “Oh shit, Mr. Solo must have just done something hot.”

You start laughing at yourself. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes, you two are ridiculous.”

Mischievously, you flip your camera screen so James can see Ben walk up to the cottage, his back and shoulder muscles rippling as he reaches for the door. 

“Ack!” James barks a laugh. “Shit! I didn’t realize he had all of _that_ happening under those v-necks!”

You switch the camera back to face you grinning. “Yeah….” 

“Oh my _God_ , girl how do you let him out of bed?”

“I try not to,” you laugh and bite your lip. “Anyway! James, we should talk when I get back.”

“Oh no-- are you breaking up with me?”

“Ha! Come on, I’m serious! Will you be home tonight?”

“I’m working today but should be home by the time you get back. Why the drama?! I’m dying of suspense. Did you have fun up there at least?”

“Yes! It’s gorgeous up here and I feel _so_ relaxed. Oh! I’m bringing us some wine from Healdsburg.”

“Ooo! Thanks! That’s an upgrade! So I bet you’re all dangerously in love by now?”

_Interesting word choice_ , you think. “Yeah...,” you sigh lightly.

“Good! I, for one, am very glad to hear it. Ben’s much better than the type you usually date-- shade _fully_ intended.”

“HEY! What—!”

“Come on! You know I’m right!” he exclaims and you both laugh.

“Fine! Ok, we’ll talk more when I’m back. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

“Bye!”

You get off the phone and lean your head back with a groan. This conversation needed to happen today. Mentally you try to brace yourself for an awkward and maybe painful conversation with James when you get home. 

Just then Ben calls to you from inside; he was making breakfast for you both. You call back and tell him scrambled eggs are fine. The past few days had been almost dreamlike in their bliss. When Ben said he loved you, your heart had opened in a new way that was scary and unfamiliar. Your mind raced with wild sentimental thoughts about being in this for the long haul, moving in together, adopting animals. It made you feel vulnerable and a bit out of control. 

At the same time, you had the sneaking suspicion that if you said any of this out loud to Ben he would be right there with you. As commanding as he could be in Anonymous and otherwise, once past the intimidating facade he was a complete sweetheart. Brooding mysterious Ben was sexy intrigue personified; but relaxed and happy Ben did something else to you entirely.

You close your laptop and rise to standing, reaching your arms over your head to stretch and breathe in the fresh air with a hint of salt from the ocean. You head inside where Ben is plating scrambled eggs and toast. When he sets the dishes down, your hands snake around his waist and your warm lips touch his back. “Good morning,” you whisper against his skin.

“Good Morning, love,” he says in a low voice. He pivots to face you, then places a kiss on your lips. “You’re not ready to go back are you?” he smiles. 

  
“Are you?” you ask with a smile. 

“No. But I told everyone we’d be back online today. I was already roped into two calls on my run.” Ben strokes your hair looking down into your eyes. “Your mission launched,” he adds in a deep tender tone. 

“I know… I was just on the phone with James. I have to warn him about Marco. The news could drop any day now.” 

Ben pulls you closer to him and it helps to calm you. “Breakfast first. Then we can get back to saving the world.”

*** 

  
  


Ben drove peacefully down Highway 1 gazing along the oceanside cliffs to his right, his hand tucked into Y/N's hair, fingers softly stroking the nape of her neck. He felt rested in a way he hadn’t in ages. He also felt deeply in love. 

He’d caught up with Kuruk, Rose and his team in the morning and this time there were no raging fires to be put out from his absence. Things were going so well on all fronts it made him nervous; like if he paid too much attention to any one thing it would disappear. Instead, Ben tried not to focus on his sudden good luck and to concentrate on the natural beauty along the coast and the woman next to him who was gazing contentedly out of the window singing softly along to music she’d synced to his car speakers. 

“We should just stay up here, not come back.” Ben says. 

“We have to work…” Y/N says with a sigh. “Well, _I do_ anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” Ben says automatically without thinking. _Shit, did he just say too much?_ He could easily get her a credit card and take care of her expenses. Y/N had very reasonable spending habits and he knew her rent was next to nothing by SF standards. Plus maybe she would think about moving in with him eventually when she was ready? 

_Don’t get ahead of yourself,_ Ben thinks. He quickly tries to backtrack to hide his embarrassing overeagerness and give her an easy way to tell him no. 

“I thought you liked working at the coffee shop?” He offers. 

“I do,” she says. “But it might be nice to not need to juggle it when classes start again. Although I may just take a gap year….” Y/N looks out into the horizon thoughtfully. “It feels ridiculous to pay full tuition if everything is going to be on Zoom and a lot of companies won’t be sending recruiters due to the recession. I had so many plans for 2020, you know? And then the whole world changed. It’s hard to know what to do next. ” Y/N bites her thumbnail nervously.

“Don’t be hard on yourself. A gap year may not be a bad idea. No one knows what to do right now. We’re all just trying our best.” Ben squeezes her shoulder as comfort. “This year brought us together though,” he says hopefully. 

She smiles and turns her face to kiss him. He loves kissing her. He hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been until each time she showed him soft affection. He wanted to have that feeling always.

Emboldened, he presses again: “Keep the job if you want it. But you’re doing so much for the group… if you don’t want to do anything else you don’t have to. Think about it. ” 

Ben feels her lean more fully into the arm he’d draped around her. She doesn’t answer him, but he can sense her thinking about it. Clearly she didn’t hate the idea or she would have snapped at him already. He smiles to himself in recognition; proud of himself for learning her reactions and moods. 

After being silent for a minute or two, Ben considers the conversation dropped. Then softly she simply says, “Thank you,” and leans her head further into his hand. She closes her eyes, dozing off lulled by the steady rhythm of the car on the road. 

Ben feels his heart swell a bit, relieved he hadn’t misread her feelings. She felt the way he did too, and was open to considering some next steps. 

Ben’s thoughts drift to his conversation with Kuruk this morning. He had caught him up on the escalating situation in Portland. A questionably legal collection of Federal agents from multiple agencies was being ordered to quell the local BLM protests. For over a week Cardo had been helping to organize the resistance with a local Anonymous operative. Ben had two missed calls and a half dozen Signal notifications from Cardo that he hadn’t been ready to check yet. It was likely he was hoping Ben could help provide some backup. 

Right now, however, Ben was too happy to go dive back into real life. Ben begins to consider how he could extend the last half day of their escape. Although they would still make it back tonight, a detour was in order. 

Just over an hour later Ben pulls off the road at a renown local oyster house, tucked along the shoreline of the inland Tomales Bay. The seating area is only a few yards from the water and is entirely outdoors, making it one of the few restaurants that could operate somewhat normally during the statewide semi- quarantine. He is surprised to think that oddly enough he had never been able to take Y/N out for a meal. 

Ben parks the car and nudges Y/N gently; she’d fallen into a peaceful car nap while he drove. She wakes slowly with a smile and reaches for him. 

“Hmm, Ben where are we?” 

“I’m taking you on a proper lunch date before we get back into the city.”

Y/N's face lights up, beaming. “Really?! I haven’t been to a real restaurant since February!” she exclaims, eyes sparkling. 

Ben smiles at her, pleased with himself for making her so happy. Exiting the Tesla. Y/N practically bounces out of the car and throws her arms around his neck in a joyful embrace. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she whispers to him. 

“As long as you think so,” he responds softly. 

“And I love you.” She pulls his face down to hers, pressing her soft lips against his. 

“I love you too,” he murmurs back, even as he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. It was the third call he had ignored.. Whoever it was would have to wait. The year was so tumultuous he refused to let this small window of uncomplicated happiness slip away before it was absolutely necessary. He’d call them back when they made it to the city. Right now he was taking his girlfriend on a date. Ben places a hand onto the small of Y/N’s back and guides her to a table. 

They order platters of sparkling fresh oysters pulled straight from the bay served over ice with bright wedges of lemon, rich cups of clam chowder, and a loaf of hearty sourdough bread with creamy salted butter. Y/N asks for a glass of rose and Ben makes it a bottle. This was a celebration of sorts; or at least a final reprieve before diving back into reality. He drinks one glass of the light summer wine slowly, conscious that they still have at least an hour left on the road. Y/N however, has no such limitations and happily finishes most of the wine for them both as they relax in the hazy afternoon sunshine. Ben threads his fingers with hers and smiles wordlessly. It was the kind of day that memories were made of. 

They linger at the end of their meal, only rising when the rose is done and Y/N begins to longingly stare at him across the table. It was probably the wine; but they were also now in the habit of spending the long summer afternoons in bed together and this was the first break from that norm in two weeks. Ben wants her too; but they’d have to make it home first. 

However, Y/N has other plans. Back in the Tesla, she immediately starts to stroke up and down his thigh while he drives. Ben casts her a warning look from the corner of his eye. In response, she leans across the center console to whisper propositions into his ear sending chills down his spine. 

“Be careful now, wild girl.” Ben grins over at her, sliding his hand into the roots of her hair and easing her back down into her seat. She was exciting him; but they were still on the road! Undeterred, Y/N bites her lip and reaches over to his lap, rubbing her palm over his hardening cock through his pants. _Fuck._

Ben asks, “You’re not going to stop until you get what you want, are you?” 

  
“No,” she says, taking his right hand between both of her small ones and placing it on her lap. Y/N leaned back deeply into the seat and slowly started to pull up the skirt of her short sundress. Glancing at him almost innocently, she begins to guide his hand over her exposed thighs. 

“Y/N…” Ben whispers. 

Y/N spreads her knees wide and presses his hand against her mound. “Mmm…” she moans softly. 

“Fuck…” Ben laughs. He loved that she was bold enough to ask for what she wanted. Although he was naturally dominant, with Y/N he found that submitting to her needs thrilled him. 

Ben starts to tease the edge of her panty line, tracing a finger under the lacey fabric, loving the feeling of the delicate skin there. 

“More…” she whispers. 

“You’re spoiled,” Ben says playfully, but he finally relents, setting the Tesla to autopilot, allowing it to self drive along the mostly empty highway. He slides two fingers under the band, gently stroking her soft folds while she pushes her hips forward into his hand. 

“Yes, sir. _Please_.” she says calls, her voice stirring him. 

Her eyes flutter closed when he slides his fingers into her wet center and curves them up to her favorite spot. A flush was rising in her cheeks as he moved in and out of her. She starts to moan softly with each breath as he picks up speed. 

“Ooo don’t stop…” she purrs, her soft tone making his cock throb. 

Just at that moment Ben’s phone starts to buzz. _NOT NOW,_ he thinks, watching Y/N’s breath start to quicken with the pace of his hand. His phone was synced to the car, and he could see on the dash it was Kuruk. Ben turns his face from the car back to Y/N who is beginning to arch her back and grind her hips forward driving his fingers deeper inside. Her juices are dripping down his fingers to his wrists and Ben longs to taste her on his tongue. 

Kuruk sends a text message that flashes across the dash; Ben reads it involuntarily: _Heading up to Portland this week. Shit’s wild. Cardo needs some support. Would you be up for helping out with the Field Team?_

What? Why wouldn’t Vicrul or Ap’lek go? The Field Team was their primary beat. Ben considers that they both have teaching jobs though, and classes would be back in session soon. Hmm. 

  
“ _Oh yes_ … Oh yes, sir,” Y/N calls from the passenger seat, bringing him back into the moment where she was approaching climax. Her walls fluttered around his hand. Ben gazes at her lovingly while she melts under his touch then adds a bit more pressure to her gspot and presses the palm of his hand against the sensitive nub of her clit. 

“Ohhhh fuck…” she moans as her legs start to shake. 

He loved this part. Watching with darkened eyes Ben feels her pussy clench and flood around his hand. She arches even further back into the seat and closes her eyes, her orgasm imminent. Comfortable enough with the Tesla’s self drive mode, Ben leans over the console and leaves a trail of soft kisses along her neck, then intensifies it with sharp nips at the thin skin of her collarbone. Y/N breaks then, coming hard and emitting a short scream when it hits, shivering inside and out. Ben doesn't break his pace, wanting her to feel every tremor of her release. She grabs his face in her hands and thrusts her tongue into his mouth, moaning as her body continues to tremble. Her climax comes in a long wave that peaks, recedes then peaks again. She only releases his face and pushes away his palm when her legs finally still, and then she sinks into a deep calm. 

Eyeing him wickedly, Y/N grabs his right hand, then brings it to her mouth and daintily begins to lick his fingers with the tip of her tongue. 

“No, that’s for me.” Ben says, pulling away and sucking his fingers into his mouth, tasting her. 

She grins at him and drags her teeth over her lower lip. “Would you be too distracted if…” she flicks her eyes quickly down to his crotch, reaching over to glide her hands over his jeans. 

He encloses her hand in his and draws it to his lips pressing a kiss into her soft warm skin. “No. I don’t want half measures.” 

She looks at him with an arched eyebrow. 

“I’m going to make you wait. What I need to do to you… I can’t do it now.” He says, tracing her lower lip with his thumb. “Just wait. We’ll be home soon.”

Y/N nods at him grinning. He can almost see her imagination thinking through scenarios of what he might have meant. She closes her eyes, looking serene after her climax, and keeps a gentle grip on his hand while she rests. 

*** 

Only when Ben pulls up in front of your building does the anxiety start to break through your vacation glow. Thirty minutes ago Rose had sent you a message that she plans to release the names of the most culpable Exogol Industries executives tomorrow, but you’d managed to hold off thinking about exactly what that meant as you traced lazy fingertips over the back of Ben’s hand while he cruised through the scenic Marin Headlands. You were in love. Your body felt absolutely radiant. Taking in the dramatic views of the city while you cross back over the Golden Gate bridge, it seemed like a crime to immediately have to jump into a potentially devastating conversation with James, But you had delayed it for as long as possible. Time was up. 

You linger on the sidewalk as Ben grabs your bags out of the car. Then you walk slowly down the hallways to your unit, arms wrapped around him still not ready to let go of your lovers’ oasis. Before you put your key in the lock you exhale deeply then reach back for Ben’s hand, pulling him close so you can kiss him lovingly. “I had an amazing time. Thank you,” you breathe gently onto his lips. 

“I did too,” he smiles widely, creases forming at the corner of his eyes. You are still looking back at him when you press open the door. 

“Y/N!” James calls from the sofa. 

“Yes!” you reply, cheerfully, until you turn and see his face. James is clearly agitated.

“Oh, hey Ben!” James says quickly, popping up quickly and rushing toward you. “Can you believe this?” he rushes forward and holds out his phone. 

“What am I looking at?” you ask trying to decipher the dense block of text on the screen. 

“Marco just got this email and he’s freaking out--I think you were right this morning! From his work with Exogol Industries he might be caught up in something! This security firm-- Starkiller LLC?-- says Anonymous is planning to _dox_ a bunch of people tomorrow. But Marco’s just a _consultant_! He probably shouldn't be worried about this, right?” James looks at you and then Ben. “Am I overreacting?”

You stare at James, mouth agape. Ben rushes to close the door to the hall. You had rarely seen James this worked up. 

_Fuck_. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. You had meant to break the news gently and indirectly with compassion and kindness. You expected wine would be involved and maybe a few tears. After this ambush, however, your entire strategy is out the window. 

  
“Can I see that?” asks Ben confidently, stepping forward and taking the phone when James offers it. You can see his eyes scrolling quickly over the text as you breathe shallowly trying to think of what to say. 

“When did he get this?” Ben asks. 

“Like an hour ago.” James says. 

Wait-- Rose had only told _you_ about the plan _30 minutes_ ago. How could Starkiller LLC have this information already? Nearly at the same time the plan was put in place? 

Ben takes his phone out and snaps pictures of James’ screen. You understand that he was doing this to avoid creating any kind of data trail back to either one of you. The fact that Ben is clearly already devising a plan is comforting-- somewhat. 

James has his hands on his hips, fidgeting nervously looking to you and Ben for validation that everything would be OK. Quickly, you remember a tip you got from Rose; when confronted with a difficult situation, try to focus on just the facts. 

“James. Do you know what Exogol Industries has done?” you ask softly. 

The question is enough to stop his manic pacing. He pauses to consider. 

You continue: “If Marco is implicated in those documents, he’s not exactly the man you think he is.” James’ face flushes with color. That was the crux of the issue. 

“He can’t be--” James starts to say. Ben hands the phone back to him and you notice his lips are pressed into a thin line. 

“How much do you know about Marco’s work in Latin America?” Ben asks. His voice was firm but compassionate. 

“Not a whole lot! If he said anything incriminating I probably wouldn't even notice. I’m a barista in a philosophy Ph.D program! I don’t follow this kind of stuff!”

A burst of laughter escapes your lips and triggers a nervous laugh in James too, breaking the tension a bit. You look over to Ben with a bit of a plea in your eyes. There was one definitive way to clear this up; but it would require coming clean. 

“OK, James. Let us put these things down. Then we’ll have a drink and talk through this?” you tell James calmly. 

“Sure. Fine. Sorry-- I realize you guys just walked in.” 

“No, no, it's fine! This is scary shit.” you tell him honestly. “Give me a second to get settled. But don’t talk to Marco until we think through this a bit, alright?”

“Yeah. Ok.” He seems a bit calmer now. 

You shuffle Ben quickly down the hall into your bedroom and shut the door. Ben rolls your luggage against the wall and runs his hand through his hair in exasperation. Waving your arms over your head you turn to him and mouth **FUCK!**

You whisper, “We have to tell him right? That’s the only way we can salvage this?”

“Tell who what?”

“BEN!” you whisper-scream at him. “We have to tell James about Anonymous. So he knows--”

“Huh?” he whispers back. 

“I- I don’t know what else to do! We have to, right? James won’t tell Marco-- or anyone! He has always known how to keep a secret.”

“Oh. Ok. Sure that’s fine. I had anticipated this happening eventually. I looked into James’ background before we even started talking. He's trustworthy. But how the hell did Starkiller get that info so quickly? Rose only confirmed that plan today. It doesn't make sense.” 

You could tell Ben was more focused on that part than the James question. 

“One thing at a time.” you whisper back at Ben trying to make him focus. “I have to go back out there and deal with James right now. You tell Rose about Starkiller. We can reconvene in thirty minutes, I- I have to be honest with him. Please tell me it's OK?”

“You don’t have to ask permission.” Ben pulls you into an embrace and kisses your brow. “You’re an Anonymous operative now. It’s up to you to make the call. We work together as a collective; the entire group has to trust each other’s judgment.” he looks deeply into your eyes. “Is telling James what you think is right?”

You take a deep breath. Then another. Somehow even after everything you’d been through with Anonymous in your mind this was still a little bit like picking up your boyfriend's hobby. But it was clear that by this point you had to admit to yourself this had become much more than that. You are a leading strategist for their most high profile mission of the moment. You have the autonomy to make your own decisions. The group trusts you enough to make hard calls independently. Deciding to trust yourself, you look back to Ben. 

  
“Yes. I think it is.”

“Ok,” Ben says, trailing his hand from your shoulder down your arm and holding your hand. “I knew it made sense to upgrade the security at your place. I’m going to call Rose in here and check in with my team.” Sensing your trepidation he gives your hand a squeeze. “For what it's worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. And I love you.”

You ruefully long for the serenity you had just fifteen minutes ago in the car, when you were wondering how quickly you could get Ben into bed. You’d been intrigued by what he had said earlier in the car and were hoping to do something inventive tonight-- maybe something with your colors. That seemed off the table now. 

“Wish me luck.” you say. 

Just as you head back to the main room your phone buzzes urgently three times in rapid succession. Alone in the hallway you check your screen. It was a series of messages on Signal from Rose.

_Are you back yet? Starkiller scooped us. They’re warning the targets._

_Doesn’t impact our plan-- still going live tomorrow. Wanted you to know ASAP_

_Trying to hunt down how they got this info! Someone in our group must be leaking_

You freeze in place. A leak? Rose thought there may be a leak?! Does that mean that someone in Anonymous was… _a mole?!_ Your heart begins to race. Nervously you tap your fingertips against your thigh trying to think through what this all really means. 

Jarringly your phone buzzes sharply again in your hand. It’s a final warning from Rose. 

_BE CAREFUL_


	24. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to come clean.

Barely breathing you read Rose’s messages again.  **They’re warning the targets. Be careful.** _ Fuck. _ Things were escalating quickly on more than one front and there was no way to handle it except for head on. 

With a liquid courage assist. 

You walk back to the main room but instead of rushing to comfort your friend, you turn directly into the kitchen. 

“James!” you call over your shoulder. “I was planning to pour the wine I brought but I think this conversation needs something stronger.” James jumps up and follows you to the bar cart eyeing the liquor collection over your shoulder. You turn to face him: “Vodka or whiskey?”

“Ugh that bad, huh?” he says with a pout. Then opening a cabinet looking for mixers asks, “Are you thinking mules? I think we have some ginger beer left somewhere...”

“I’m starting with fucking shots, James.” you say lining up two double shot glasses. 

A sharp laugh erupts from James’ mouth as he pauses his nervous pacing. “Well. Shit. I’ll grab the cold vodka out of the freezer.” He circles back with a sigh and grabs two more shot glasses adding them to the line then fills them all to the brim. “We’re going to take the first one to prepare for this fucked up news you’re about to tell me. Cheers.” You clink glasses and both down the first one. 

“Ooo” you shudder, feeling it burn in your throat. 

“Oh!” James pulls a face as well. “It’s been a while since I did that!” 

“Actually? Let’s do the second one too.” you say with gusto. 

James salutes you with a tease. You clink glasses again and down the second one in rapid succession. 

“That one was easier!” you proclaim. 

  
James nods at you through a mild grimace. “You know it was actually?!” 

The jolt of the shots pulls you into a new headspace. You clap your hands together confidently, giving yourself a physical boost. You stand up straight and face James who is leaning forward against the kitchen island.  _ Ok here we go _ . 

“James,” you look at him directly. “There are two options here. You can either trust that I have your best interest in mind and we can work through all of this, but you don’t ask me any questions. Just roll with it.”

He looks at you wide eyed but nods. 

“Or,” you pause, then exhale deeply. “I can tell you all the details. The truth. If I do that though, You can’t speak a word of it to anyone. Not Mels. Not Kiana.  _ Certainly _ not Marco. It’s very important that you don’t. There could be consequences.” 

James doesn't speak for a long time. Then with a dawning realization he groans. “Oh no, Y/N…” 

Shaking his head back and forth he stretches his arms forward to the counter, looks down at the floor and exhales dramatically. When he looks back up at you, his eyes shoot up directly to yours. In a low raspy tone he says, “I fucking knew it. Ben is Anonymous isn’t he?” 

Stunned, your mouth drops for a second but then you pull it together. Time to come clean. This was the right call. You trusted your instincts here and Ben had backed your decision for good measure. You stand up straighter and face him. 

“He is. And so am I.”

“ **_WHAT_ ** ?!” James stares at you in shock. You can tell a hundred thoughts are running through his mind. But the first one he manages to sputter out is, “You don’t know how to code!” 

Maybe it was the vodka shots (or the wine from lunch) or his shrill tone that breaks you, but in response you start laughing uncontrollably. When you think about it, this turn in your life  _ was _ ridiculous. How did you even get here? The more you think about it the more it tickles you and then you can't  _ stop _ laughing. In moments you are doubled over and nearly collapsing on the floor. 

James rushes over and puts a hand on your shoulder, “Wait are you serious?” he asks through his own sudden eruption of giggles. 

You can barely even speak through your own hooting. “No-- no, I’m serious. I’m in…” a fit of giggles overtakes you before you can finish. You breathe quickly and try again. “I’m in fucking Anonymous now! Ben recruited me! After we … you know…”

“You fucked your way into  _ Anonymous _ ?!” James asks in an astonished high-pitched voice. James whoops and cackles at you wide eyed. Then starts to laugh with abandon, unable to stop, collapsing fully until he’s sitting on the kitchen floor and holding his stomach. 

You sit beside him, both of you laughing too hard to speak for a full minute. Every time you make eye contact it starts it all over again. His face is pink now and you can see tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. Through gasping bursts of laughter he manages to blurt out, “Is that how  _ everyone _ gets in?”

“Oh my  _ God _ !” you exclaim, absolutely cackling and reaching up to the counter for the vodka bottle with one hand, two shots glasses with the other before joining James sitting on the floor. Even as you continue to gasp for breath between peels of laughter you pour another shot for you both. “Fuck! I hope not!” 

Your own tears spillover and your stomach is starting to ache from laughing but you can't stop. It feels so good to be honest with James. Keeping a secret as big as this had been a weight on you that you hadn’t fully realized. A series of knots untangle in your stomach and you regain a sense of equilibrium. Objectively, the sudden twist that your summer had taken was absurd. It was a tremendous relief to share the thrill and the burden of it with your best friend. 

“OK OK OK!” James says, wiping tears away from his face again. You hand a new shot to James. “You’re in Anonymous. Well, this round is for that. Congratulations! Here’s to-- “ he starts to giggle again-- “really  _ giving your all _ to the movement!” he says with a raunchy emphasis.

“CHEERS!” you shout in response, clinking your glass with his. You down this round easily thinking,  _ vodka really doesn’t even burn! _

James turns to you. “Alright-- so Ben’s in Anonymous. Inexplicably--  _ you're  _ now in Anonymous. And you’re both telling me that Marco is bad? Is he going to jail? He’s too  _ cute _ for this kind of drama!” 

“First of all--” you begin, one finger raised. “Cute boys  _ always _ have drama.  _ You _ taught me that! Second-- right now it’s not looking good for Marco. We don’t really know how it's all going to play out. It may not be safe for you to be close to this shitshow. And anyway, would you really want to be with someone who is involved with people like that?” 

James leans his head back against the kitchen island cabinet, legs outstretched. He doesn't speak for a full minute. Then says softly, “Not going to lie, this is pretty horrible. Y/N.” 

You reach over and place your hand over his. “I know. I'm sorry. I’ve been hoping we were wrong for a while, but everything keeps lining up. What did Marco say about all this?”

James closes his eyes as he speaks, recalling, “He keeps going back over all his conversations with Exegol, trying to figure out if he could be implicated. He was spooked! From what he said, he never saw the big picture. Like, he was only asked to make a connection or coordinate a meeting, but didn’t know what they were talking about.” 

James opens his eyes and turns to you. “That’s what he told me, anyway. You’re telling me now he’s some evil Bond villain man. So who even knows.” 

You pause. “Wait, did Marco not attend the meetings he put together? I would assume he’d be there, his name is on all of the preparations--”

“No! He told me he never went! He mainly did logistics and networking. He said he met some of these guys at dinners and things, but he never attended for the business side.” 

“Really?!” Your brain starts spinning. All of your analysis had assumed that Marco was not just coordinating a lot of these dubious meetups, but actively participating. If he hadn’t been, then maybe--? 

James’ phone starts to vibrate on the counter but you’re too out of it to reach up and hand it to him. Eventually, it pulses its way to the edge and tumbles over, crashing into James’ lap. 

“Look who it is?” James holds his phone up and waves the screen at you. It’s Marco on Facetime. You roll your eyes. “I’m answering it.” James says, slurring his words just the tiniest bit. 

“HELLO!” James says dramatically, “Marco I'm here with Y/N. I've been catching her up on your… predicament.” He pivots the camera to you for a bit and you give a slight wave. Marco is pacing in his living room. He looks pretty panicked. 

“Are you sitting on the floor?! Have you been  _ drinking _ ?”

“YES!” you both reply cheerfully, exploding into giggles again. 

“James! This is serious! I’m scared! I don’t want Anonymous on my fucking back. I’ve only worked with Exogol to essentially do international event planning! I don’t know what they were meeting about! If I had known they were involved in the kind of thing they are accused of I would have given the files to Anonymous myself!” Marco finishes in a rush. 

_ Wait… what?  _ A thought dawns on you slowly through your now fuzzy brain. You reach for the phone from James. 

“Marco-- Hey, it's Y/N. What do you mean you would give the files to Anonymous? I thought you weren’t involved in the business side of these things?  _ Allegedly _ .”

_ “I”M NOT! _ But I have information that could be helpful! I have meeting dates! And attendee lists! I even probably have some old agendas from things I put together. Where they stayed, who they flew in with-- I have all of that!” Marco pauses as that information slowly penetrates your mind. The more you think about it, the more comfortable the floor really was. You slide over a bit and rest your head on James’ shoulder. 

“Hmm. Well, if you could get that information to Anonymous maybe they wouldn’t dox you,” you suggest casually in the tone of a challenge.

“Sure, OK. How the hell would I do that? They don’t have a helpline!” 

“Try reaching out to them on social media. I hear they’re um-- pretty responsive on there.” 

James gives you a  _ look _ at that line and starts to giggle again. Out of Marco’s view he silently mouths to you: “You would know!”

“Wait, Y/N are you serious?” Marco asks you directly. You sit up and hold the phone at a more proper angle.

“I’m saying--” you start, trying to focus and organize your thoughts through a creeping drunken haze, “if you think they’re going to dox you tomorrow and link you to all this bad shit you didn't do, then you might as well try it! They probably would welcome someone from the inside helping out. Find them on Twitter and tell them what you have. If you make it compelling enough maybe they’ll hold your information back. Or at least buy you a few days.” You hand the phone back to James, suddenly feeling a bit sleepy. 

“You should listen to her,” James says nodding into the phone. 

“That idea might not be crazy, actually.” Marco finally sits down. “OK. I think I’m going to try that. I mean at this point my only options are being publically looped in with these insane Exogal people or try to make an exception for myself with Anonymous.” 

“Try it-- see how it goes!” you call into the phone. You stand up then, craving pretzels or tortilla chips and try to see if you can find either in the pantry. 

As you rummage around, you consider that Ben could respond to Marco on Twitter then coordinate getting any docs to Rose securely. She would also have a better sense of how plausible his story really was and if he should be pulled from tomorrow’s burn list. 

“Aha!” you call out, turning to James who’s now murmuring something to Marco from the floor. “Chex mix!” 

“Excellent!” he calls out. You hear him pacify Marco a bit more and then hang up. James turns his face up to look at you while you pour some snacks into a bowl. You reach a hand out to pull him up then you both move over to the sofa and collapse into a drunk pile. 

Munching idly, James turns to look at you. “Did you give Marco real advice? If he reaches out on Twitter, and can give Anonymous more details do you think…?

“It’s possible, James!” you look down, picking out pretzels from the Chex mix. “I can recommend we pull back but it's not entirely my call. It really depends on what he does next.” 

James sighs heavily. Thomas emerges from a quiet corner and jumps up into James’ lap. 

Just then Ben walks into the living room and scans the scene quickly with an amused gaze. You and James are splayed out on the sofa heads at either end, legs criss crossing in the center. A large bowl of salty carbs rests on the floor between you next to a vodka bottle dripping with condescension while you both clutch a shot glass. He smiles a bit and comes to your side, reaching hands down to your shoulders and massaging slightly. 

“Ben!” James exclaims when he spots him. “Want one?” He twists the shit glass in his hand. 

“I assume you told him?” Ben asks you. 

“Yes.” you say looking up at him. 

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT THE WHOLE TIME!” shouts James.

“No. Be serious,” Ben says in a low skeptical tone.

“Come  _ on _ ! I’m not  _ dumb _ . Y/N tells me about every guy she flirts with, A few weeks after she sends Anonymous a nude a mystery man starts staying the night? You think I didn't have a clue what was going on since the first night you popped up?! I mean-- you did a security upgrade on every device in this house! Including mine!”

Ben’s eyes widen for a second in surprise. “OK, well--” Ben starts to respond a bit defensively, but you just start giggling again. When James laid it all out like that it  _ was _ pretty funny. Ben tilts his head at you but then softens. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything,” James tells Ben seriously, “I’m very much on your side in all of this.”

“Wait-- you asked if he was a Republican at dinner!” you exclaim accusingly at James.

“I was  _ fucking _ with you!  _ Obviously _ ! I figured one of you would finally tell the truth. I thought that was the whole point of the spontaneous dinner party.”

“Oh my God…” you murmur pouring yourself another shot and taking it quickly even as you see Ben arch an eyebrow at you. 

“Listen,” James continues. “All jokes aside, I know this is serious. I’m going to keep your secret. And thank you for giving me a heads up about Marco. Ughhh…” 

“Ooo about that actually!” You say brightly to Ben while pouring yourself another shot, and then one for James when he shakes his glass in your direction. “Marco might be interested in clearing his name. He claims he was just an organizer, a middleman, and didn’t sit in on the meetings themselves. He wants to turn state's evidence!” You proclaim festively raising your glass to James and you both take the shot with a triumphant cheer. 

“Y/N— What are you talking about? Stay focused!” Ben interjects. 

“Marco has documents we didn’t pull. Important ones. Travel logs. Meeting dates. Guest lists. He’s CC’d on all kinds of things he doesn’t seem to understand the full importance of. He wants to give it to us. To Anonymous.” 

Ben blinks at you rapidly. “Wait really? Why would he do that?” 

“Because Y/Ns the best operative you’ve  _ GOT _ !” James yells supportively, suddenly your hype man. 

Ben and you both laugh. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Seriously, you did this just now? While taking shots with James?”

“Yes I did, Mr. Solo!” You say in a sing-song voice. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he whispers as he smiles down at you. 

“Check the DMs on Anonymous Twitter. That’s how he’s going to reach out. I told him he has to give us something good if he doesn’t want to be burned tomorrow.”

“Wait did you—“

“NO! He doesn’t think I’m involved. He was so panicked honestly he was happy to do whatever I said.”

“Don’t undersell yourself, you were  _ phenomenal _ !” James exclaims theatrically. 

“Thanks, James! So yeah, connect with him and see if he produces anything of value. Would you mind catching Rose up for me?” 

“No problem. You seem— occupied.” Ben says with a smirk. 

Watching James pour the bottle again he says, “Don’t make yourself sick. You too, James!” 

Ben walks to the kitchen then circles back to the sofa and places a 12-pack of La Croix on the floor next to the vodka and hands you each a can. He gives both of you a stern look. “Drink some water with all of that.” 

“Yes, sir,” you coo up at him.

“Thank you, Anonymous,” says James playfully. 

Ben shakes his head at you both with a chuckle, but doesn’t move until he sees you both open the water and take a long drink. “Good. Y/N, I’m going to update Rose and do some work on this.”

You nod at him, feeling suddenly very sleepy. Ben rests a hand on your hair tenderly. “You did great work tonight,” he whispers into your ear, out of James’ hearing. You glow inside feeling validated by his words.

Ben heads back to your room prepping for probably a pretty long night. Thomas makes a comfy bed for himself in the folds of your and James’ bodies. You start to drift off to sleep on the sofa. Just as you feel yourself about to doze off for real you hear James’ voice softly. 

“Say Marco can produce the evidence that’s helpful for what you’re doing… do you really think you can spare him?”

“Yes, James, I do. If he can prove it, I’ll make sure he’s ok.” 

James nods back at you then snuggles closer into a throw pillow and falls immediately to sleep. 

***

The next morning you wake up in your own bed for the first time in weeks. You sigh softly into soft lived-in sheets, feeling a homey comfort that you didn't realize you had missed. Ben must have carried you to bed at some point in the night; you smile into your pillow at the thought. One of his shirts was draped over you, he must have done that too. 

Opening your eyes, you see Ben sitting at a recline close to you, alluringly shirtless, laptop open typing rapidly, leaning forward just enough that waves of his long dark hair falls over his eyes. You watch him with silent adoration for a minute, taking in his masculine beauty. More than being so naturally gorgeous though, your heart swells to see him working so hard early in the morning on his passion project— Anonymous. He could have taken the money from selling his company and become another Silicon Valley playboy like many others; but instead he was committed to the fight for social justice. He was also committed to you. 

Feeling very in love, you slowly sit up in bed and slide a hand over his taut abdomen then lean into his shoulder. “Good morning,” you whisper, pressing your lips into his lightly freckled skin. 

Ben smiles down at you. He recognizes the love radiating from your eyes and his expression morphs to mirror your own. He cups your face and kisses you slowly, then pulls you close to his chest, tucking a strong arm around you. 

“Good Morning, love. Are you feeling ok?”

“Why would you—“ you begin to ask, then as you arch your head up a shooting pain courses through your head and you wince. 

“Ooo I was afraid this would happen after all those shots. Here, drink this.” He hands you a glass of water and an Advil which he already had on the side table. Thanking him you take them both, then cuddle back into the comfy nook at his side.

Ben speaks to you gently in a deep melodic baritone: “Your quick thinking last night paid off. I connected with Marco on Twitter and he sent Rose a cache of documents. She’s sorting through them now with the team that speaks Portuguese— most of the relevant work was in Brazil— but it was enough to get his name off the burn list. For today anyway, you were able to keep him safe.” 

“Are you serious?!” You exclaim, blinking up rapidly at him. 

“I am! You did amazing work last night. Creative methods— as always,” he grins at you with a knowing look, a reference to how you reached out to him in the first place. You blush a bit and smile back at him. 

“It’s brilliant that you pulled that together on a moment's notice. Practically spycraft improve! You should tell James it will be ok.” Ben says with a smile and warm eyes; he looks so proud of you. 

Feeling flushed from Ben’s praise, you bite your lower lip and grab your phone. You write to James that Marco followed your advice to connect with Anonymous and because of what he was able to provide is now in the clear. 

Ben notices you looking at your screen waiting for a response. and says, “Oh, James is not awake yet. When I went to get water a few minutes ago he was still knocked out in the living room. But I’m sure he’ll be relieved when he wakes up.” You laugh gently remembering your drunk silliness from the night before; happy James is getting rest and will wake up to good news. 

“Did you tell Marco he's off the hook?” You ask as Ben strokes your back soothingly.

“He knows. Rose has been speaking with him directly. Anonymous told him he’s in the clear-- for now at least. He is going to keep sending over docs he thinks could be useful too. Which is good since we had to stop running the program after the breach.”

You nod, proud that you’d devised another way to keep the mission going. Even though the breach wasn’t your fault exactly, you’d been harboring a bit of guilt that it had cut short the intelligence gathering. 

“So everything’s ok?” You ask cautiously, one hand tucked around Ben’s neck and playing with his soft waves. 

“Everything’s ok. There’s still this thing with the leak. We don’t know  _ how  _ Starkiller scooped us. Unless they were just being proactive? Although I feel like they would need at least a tip to go on. Don’t you worry about it though; I’m working on that.  _ Your _ part of this mission is working magnificently.” He finishes. 

Ben moves his laptop to the side table and you move to straddle his lap, palms pressed against his bare chest. He looks at you glowing with pride. It’s clear from his eyes how much he loves you; you want to feel exactly how much. 

You lean in to kiss his lips and immediately he wraps his arms around your back, his hands sliding under the oversized shirt and grasping your skin, drawing you forward closer into his body. His mouth is hungry for you. The feeling of his hands and lips alone is enough to make you moan. Ben draws the shirt up and over your body throwing it to the floor. You hold his face in your hands while you kiss him again, rising a bit as he shifts to pull off the joggers he’d been wearing. 

You smile to feel him so hard for you already, and take his cock into your hand moving slowly as you kiss a trail from his neck, across his broad chest and gradually down his ripped torso. Ben watches you with darkened eyes and his breath hitches when you turn your eyes up to him just before drawing his throbbing length into your mouth. 

“Y/N…” he breathes raspily. He gathers your hair back in his hand gently as you wrap your lips around him and start to move in rhythm with your hand. You watch his face flush with color and when he drags his teeth over his lower lip your own walls clench in anticipation. It’s intoxicating to make him feel this way. Emboldened, you relax to allow taking him deeper, all the way to the back of your throat. “ _ Shit… _ ” he gasps, his long fingers tightening their grip in your hair. When you pull off of him, drawing a breath and licking the head like candy he moans again then pulls your face up to his lips and draws your body back onto his lap. 

Ben slides a hand between your legs when you straddled him again, fingering your pussy and drawing out the wetness from your core to coat your sweet spot which he rubs just the way you like making you gasp and fall forward, your head on his shoulder. 

“Beautiful…” Ben murmurs while you rise on your knees and sink your slick pussy onto him. The feeling of him stretching your walls is so deeply satisfying you start to whimper immediately. The sheets pool around your waist while you start to grind your hips slowly. This wasn’t a race. Your body craved this connection and you wanted him inside of you for as long as possible. 

Ben grasps both of your wrists behind your back in one large hand making your chest arch forward and reaches up to firmly hold your neck with the other, staring into your eyes while you move your hips up and down over him. Although you are on top, from the holds he has on your body he is still dominant. Ben tilts his head forward and draws the stiff peak of one of your nipples into his mouth, seizing it between his teeth and pulling hard. You cry out desperately-- a mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Was that too much? Do you need to use your colors?” he asks immediately.

“No, sir. I know them,” you smile through narrowed eyes as you ride him. “I like it.” you say, arching even further to push your breasts closer into his face. Ben takes another nipple into his mouth and sinks his teeth into the flesh. “ _ OH GOD… _ ” you moan-scream, your pussy gripping his cock inside you, sending a shudder through your entire body. 

Ben moves his hand from your neck up into the roots of your hair and holds tight; then begins to thrust into you from below in that way that drives you crazy and fills you all the way up. Your eyes glow with arousal watching his face as he fucks you and you start to come apart. Ben can feel you’re close and he moans onto your lips. He moves both hands to your breasts, kneading and teasing them with his hands and tongue, urging you along. You reach up and touch the strong muscles of his shoulders but he smiles naughtily, then forcefully seizes your wrists behind your back again holding them together with a strong one handed grip. 

“No...” he chides you. Whispering into your neck he says, “I should have tied you up.” 

“Oh...!” you gasp. 

“Would you like that?” He asks in a deep but soft tone that makes your stomach do a flip even as he already moves inside of you. 

“Yes,” you breathe into his ear. 

“Mmm…” he says. “I’ll be more prepared next time.” 

_ What?! _

“Here…” Ben rotates your bodies so you’re beneath him then lifts your arms above your head, pinning your wrists down with the same dominant hand. He intensifies his movements, pounding into you, his body flat against yours, his head curled into the hollow of your neck, panting and murmuring absolutely filthy things. 

You feel full of him, covered by him, completely and totally his. Your legs begin to tremble and your breath becomes uneven. “ _ Oh... Oh... _ ” is all you can manage to whisper as he sinks deeper and deeper inside of your body. 

“Say my name,” Ben gasps into your ear. 

“Yes, sir… sir…” you murmur breathily.

“No-- my  _ real _ name,” he says turning to face you. His eyes are shining and they seem a bit desperate,

“Ben…” you whisper. 

He gazes at you with longing and love. In this moment he doesn’t want games; he wants for you to feel  _ Ben _ inside of you. He wants to sink into your body, and your mind and your spirit. He wants you to attach to him, cling to him with your heart the way you did with your gasping shuddering body. Mesmerized, you repeat: “ _ Ben… _ ” 

Watching your eyes, he slides his free hand down your body and adds just a touch of pressure onto your clit making your hips buck forward instantly and your walls grip him tightly. You both moan loudly and your head folds forward over his shoulder. “Ben...!” you scream.

“Come on all over me, beautiful. I want you to come all over me.” he says in a gentle command. 

The next moment you do--  _ gloriously _ . Your entire body trembles and melts beneath him. Your legs wrap around him tightly and you repeat his name continuously like an incantation. 

He comes with you-- roaring out his release, every muscle in his body tensing, then shivering as he spills inside of you deeply. In the midst of his climax he frees your wrists and you sink liberated hands into his hair, holding him close as he pumps rapidly through his release. 

Sated, Ben collapses on you breathing heavily. The weight of him threatens to smother you, but lost in your own delirium you love it all the same. After a time, Ben shifts to his side and gathers you close to his body. He tucks you securely against his sweat glazed skin and whispers words of love, his lips grazing your temple. You have never felt so completely at peace. Validated. Safe. Loved. Tears pool on your lashes even though the height of your climax has passed. This moment was divine. When your tears ultimately spill over, Ben’s lips press a kiss onto his favorite spot on your neck. You sigh, “I love you, Ben.” 

Just as you slip into slumber again he whispers back: “I know.” 

  
  


***

That afternoon the cafe was surprisingly busy. It was a few months into the pandemic and people were excited to get out of the house to enjoy the uncharacteristically warm and sunny SF weather. Poe made a show of being excited you were back at work, full of charming humor and camaraderie. Any lingering doubts you’d had that things would be awkward between you two disappeared; he had graciously taken the “L” and moved on. 

Today Poe was buzzing with all the new info that Anonymous had released, eagerly giving the entire crew a play by play of how they were exposing Exogol Industries and detailing the firm's tangled web of money laundering the world over. 

It was a struggle for you to keep a straight face, and elicit the appropriate “No way!” or “Really?!” at the correct times. James was sharing your shift, but he was much better at playing the doe-eyed innocent. More than once he jumps in with a “Wait, can you explain that again? I’m not sure I get it.” and Poe would get revved up anew explaining some intricacy about Anonymous’ tactics or Exogol’s culpability. Whenever Poe would turn his back while he excitedly chattered on, James and you would cast each other conspiratorial sidelong glances and share small sly smiles.

You both had a secret. You were both bound to keep it. There was a comfort beyond measure in sharing this trust bond with James. Mixing a drink along the back counter you sigh contentedly to yourself; satisfied and content that now you were both in this together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::: YAY FRIENDSHIP :::


	25. Author Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick Update!

_Hi Lovelies!_

_I try to update this fic at least once a week, but I want to let you know there will be a bit of a delay on the next chapters. This story is closely aligned to Real World Events in this 2020 Hellscape we’re all living in. The recent escalation of protests in Portland, OR and Kenosha, Wisconsin over the past few weeks have been deeply upsetting to me personally and I’m taking a beat to process it all. Additionally, the new dynamics impact the narrative I have been crafting for the next beats of this story! All of that to say, I am taking a bit longer to set up the next arc and to work through my own feelings during this wild time._ _I hope you are taking care of yourselves and those around you! Self care is important, and so is rest-- wishing the both of these for you!_


	26. Let’s go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are terrible; but things are good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creativity is flowing again! So I will be updating at a more regular pace moving forward. 
> 
> As always-- SOLIDARITY to everyone resisting in whatever ways are available to you, whether that be protesting in the streets, organizing in your communities or any other acts of activism! We need it all to get through this moment! 
> 
> Further, in the next few chapters not every real-life event happens on exactly the historical timeline so please note that I have taken a bit of creative license. However, I will continue to provide links within the story that align with what people are really doing on the ground to protest. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy-- Y/N and Ben still have adventures in store!

Things are terrible; but things are good. You are trying to practice mindfulness meditation-- a new habit Kiana had introduced to you-- while lounging in Ben's luxurious bath. Despite your newfound personal contentment, world events continue to deteriorate at a rapid pace with seemingly no bottom. Further, from your work with Anonymous it feels like you have a front row seat to the slow moving catastrophe.

Violence against the BLM protestors was escalating. Counter protestors had created a narrative that the Black Lives Matter movement was not merely seeking justice and accountability, but a violent overthrow of an undefined idyllic “American way of life”. To your shock and horror, this story woven by Trump and cable news propagandists resonated with a larger body of the population than you would like to believe. 

Meanwhile, the COVID19 pandemic in the US continued on. You are exhausted by the arduous safety procedures and desperate to socialize with your friends without masks, social distancing or all of the health related anxieties. You watch less mindful acquaintances living normal lives on Instagram with a mix of awe, jealousy and resentment. If they were lucky enough to avoid the contagion-- which you admit was a rather large “if”-- they would probably come out the other side with significantly less emotional and psychological damage than your circle that was still trying to live in adherence to the health guidelines. 

You take a long pull from your vape, hoping to quiet your thoughts, then lean back into the steaming water gliding the palm of your hand through the bubbles to enjoy the pop and fizz on your skin. You shake your head gently to try and refocus on the present moment as part of your meditation. 

Your body is pleasantly limp-- Ben had exhausted you this morning, making you come again and again, the last time in his mouth. He hadn’t stopped until you screamed your final release, your thighs hooked around his neck, the flats of your feet trailing down the rippling muscles of his back as you grabbed his hands, his hair, his sheets. You take a deep breath remembering. You had added eucalyptus essential oil to the water and the strong earthy scent soothes you. It is reminiscent of that first trip to the Presidio forest with Ben, when he first said he had a mission for you. That seems so long ago now. 

Just this week you had decided to go forward with your final year of classes online and accept Ben’s offer of what you were calling your “Anonymous stipend”-- although you recognize it was just a shared bank account with him and a credit card for “emergencies”. Amazingly, there was no monthly budget; he just wanted a heads up if you were planning to spend over a couple thousand dollars at once-- an opulent stipulation that you could barely wrap your mind around. Your last day working at the coffee shop had been Friday, but sentimentally you went back in just to hang out with James, Poe and Danielle the next day. You are thankful for their friendship and don’t plan to stop popping in to bossily demand elaborate latte art from Poe anytime soon. 

“Babe?” Ben called to you from the doorway. He was shirtless, wearing only grey sweats and you can see more than one mark on his body from where your rapturous teeth had slightly bruised his fair skin. He continues, “Kuruk just got back in from Portland. He’s going to stop by in a bit. I'm going to order lunch. The air quality is nice enough for us to sit outside, ” 

“Ok,” you reply with a smile, your eyes lingering on his statuesque form as he retreats back to his room. A part of you is still in disbelief that  _ that man  _ belongs to you. 

In addition to the COVID19 quarantine, most of California was now inundated with smoke from historic wildfires. The air quality in the city fluctuated wildly day to day, sometimes hour by hour. Some mornings when you step outside the smell of smoke inundated all your senses, stinging your eyes and making your throat tighten. Ben has started to check the weather  _ and _ air quality before his daily runs; and sends you screenshots from an air quality tracking app with his goodmorning messages. Two weeks ago, he had surprised you with the most coveted item of 2020 for Bay Area residents-- a medical grade air purifier, sold out nearly everywhere. It was the first major gift he had given you; in another era it would have been tantamount to gifting you fine jewelry. 

After you climb out of the tub and get dressed, Ben and you grab soft cloths to wipe down the terrace furniture lightly dusted in the ash that earlier in the week had intermittently fallen from the smoke clouds like dark dystopian snowflakes. 

“What’s going on with Kuruk? Is he back in SF for a while or is he going to head back up to Portland?” you ask wiping down the arm of a lounge chair. 

“I think he’s back here for a while. He says he just wants to stop by, but--” Ben shakes his head slightly. “I know they want me to help with the Field Team. Cardo’s been trying to get me out there for a month.” 

“Why don’t you go?” you ask, standing up and facing him. 

“The last time I teamed up with them…” he gives you a heartfelt look. “It’s probably not a good time.”

The last time he’d been away with the Field Team he’d punched a cop in the face (justifiably!) then been arrested for three days; in his absence you had acted up with Poe and  _ then _ there was the breach. A small specialized team within Anonymous was still trying to dig deeper into how that all had happened. 

“Do you  _ want _ to go?” you ask, giving Ben a direct look. If he did, you hoped he wasn’t second guessing because of you. That would be ridiculous. 

“I don’t know. If things seem like they’re getting back on the right track up there they may not really need me.”

You pause thoughtfully, but then offer, “Why don’t I just come with you?”

Ben pauses while wiping down the patio table. “Really? You would want to?” 

“Sure, why not? My classes are remote. I don't have to worry about shifts at the cafe. I can go.” 

“It might be dangerous, though,” he says with a tone of concern. He takes a step towards you, reaches for your hand and pulls you close.

“I’m a big girl,” you say with a smile, threading your fingers behind his neck. “I was ready for a more intense protest here; but for whatever reason the police never made a violent push in the city.” 

“These protests can be so unpredictable,” he says, looking down at you with emotion. “I…” Ben start to stammer, “I don’t want—“ 

Just then a loud buzzer sounds. Kuruk was here. Ben plants a kiss in your hair then dashes to a panel near his private elevator to enter a code and let him up. You hurry to swipe the rest of the patio down with a cloth— not that Kuruk would care. Although he came from a moneyed family and had done well for himself, he was remarkably low key. If you’d left the entire terrace covered in grime he’d probably just plop down and ask for a beer without noticing. 

A minute later the elevator pings gently and Kuruk walks in. “Y/N! Hey! Good to see you,” he starts to give you a friendly hug, but then remembering safety protocols turns it into an elbow bump. 

“Hey, Kuruk. It's still so strange to not touch anyone! How was your drive back?”

“Not too bad. Although I drove past some of the fires. It’s kind of apocalyptic out there,” he says flopping down in a chair. 

Ben emerges from inside with a case of Pacifico and hands one to each of you. “How’s Cardo doing?”

“Thriving on the chaos! You know how he gets!” Kuruk laughs and twists open his drink. “ _ Entangling _ himself with the local movement. Or trying to anyway,” he says with a grin. 

“What does that mean?” You ask with a smile, noting his tone.

“Nothing! He's helping out, adding value, all of that. But he's just got such a crush,” Kuruk says with a chuckle. 

Ben laughs, “Someone local?”

“Yeah and way out of his league. It’s funny to watch. You’ll meet her when you go up there.” 

Ben gives Kuruk a stare. “I didn’t say I was coming.”

“Come  _ on _ , Ben. Cardo could use you up there. Plus Vicrul’s driving down now since his teaching gig is all on Zoom. I told Rose I’d refocus on some strategy work in SF since she’s out for a few weeks.” Completely burned out, Rose had decided to temporarily relocate from SF to Hawai’i with her girlfriend for an indeterminate period of time and was taking two weeks off to settle in and regroup. 

Kuruk continues, “There is more than just a protest happening in Portland. This web of shady entities are trying to suppress the movement-- we need to gather intel along with keeping up the energy in the streets. We need a team up there that can do both.” Kuruk takes a drink. 

His words make you think. You pause, running a finger over the cool condensation of your bottle. Then jump in, “We’ll go.” 

Kuruk turns to you, surprised and excitedly, “Really?!” 

“Sure. Whatever the group needs,” you turn to Ben with a sly look; he arches an eyebrow in your direction. 

Kuruk turns to Ben for confirmation. 

“I mean…” Looking between you both and feeling peer pressured, Ben pauses for a beat but then leans forward with a shrug, resting his elbows on his knees. He sighs a bit, sending you a bemused gaze. “I guess we’re going to Portland.” 

“Ha! I’m glad to hear it. Thanks for the assist, Y/N,” Kuruk clicks his bottle against yours and you both take a sip. “The Field Team will be psyched! So what else have I missed around here?”

Ben gives a rundown on a topic that certainly couldn’t be shared with Kuruk until they were in person-- secure communications be damned. There was evidence that there was a mole somewhere in the group. Despite Ben telling you not to worry about whoever leaked Rose’s doxxing strategy to Starkiller LLC, you had spent the past two weeks looking into it with her. The Exogol Industries mission was high profile and well known across many Anonymous cells, so the leak could have come from any of the global teams. Anonymous being a collective, it was hard to know where to even start with a mole hunt. And even if you found them, how could you determine if the leak was accidental or malicious? Plus there was always the possibility that Skykillker was just a brilliant security firm that had your number. In any case, you and Rose had been making slow progress. With her on leave, however, remarkably it means that  _ you _ are now leading the operation to track down the mole. 

“Wow! That’s a hell of a first lead mission!” 

“Isn’t it?” Ben agrees, draping an arm around you. “She’ll be running our entire pod soon.” 

“Oh stop!” you laugh, blushing from the praise and leaning back into him. You were beyond flattered that Rose had even asked you to take over for her, and the compliments from the guys reinforces that you are a valued part of the team. It was a thrilling assignment, but realistically you didn’t expect to make any significant progress until Rose was back online. 

You sip your beer, grateful for a nice day outside in the clean air and the easy comraderie of seeing a friend after months of social restrictions. These days, every moment of happiness feels like a gift. Minutes later Ben realizes the NBA playoffs have started, and your group moves inside to watch. They had been postponed earlier in the year due to the pandemic and the guys are thrilled. Watching a basketball game with your boyfriend is so shockingly normal, so unlike the rest of this chaotic and unpredictable year, that it makes you kind of emotional. As the game plays, you lean into Ben’s shoulder and share jokes with Kuruk among banter over stats and predictions about the series. Everything feels light and comfortable. You sneak a kiss onto Ben’s collarbone quickly, just to express it; in return he rubs your back soothingly and you know that he understands. 

When the game ends, Kuruk turns to you both, eyes down on his phone. “So when do you think you guys will drive up? Vicrul just told me he made it there. He’s going out with Cardo tonight. They’re ready for literally anything at this point. His group is  [ bringing leaf blowers  ](https://twitter.com/juliusgoat/status/1286587279105040384?s=21) to blow the teargas back at the Feds,” he laughs.

“What?!” you exclaim, laughing in surprise. “That’s-- amazing.”

“It is, right?” agrees Kuruk excitedly. “They really work too! Only a few people had them my last night out there. And now people are creating these  [ shield wall formations ](https://twitter.com/joshuapotash/status/1291962889323020288?s=21) , like out of medieval warfare or something. It’s really something else.”

While it's shocking that these kinds of measures are required, the ingenuity of the protestors is inspiring. Feeling even more motivated to get involved with the Field Team, you lean forward wanting to hear more, but when you look over at Ben, his expression is frozen on his face. 

Placing a hand on his knee you give it a squeeze and cast a hard look at Kuruk. “Ben, I’ll be OK. I promise. I’ll stay out of real trouble,” He covers your hand in yours, 

“Y/N, when we get up there you have to be careful. These things can escalate quickly. When we were in Seattle, it turned into a riot with just the local police. Trump sent the  _ FEDS _ into Portland. They’re untrained with military weapons and have something to prove. I just-- when we get up there, promise me that if we need to fall back you will?”

“Yes. I will. I promise” you respond genuinely, leaning into his side.

“They’re being smart, man,” Kuruk jumps in. “Cardo and the local team all look out for each other.” 

Ben’s eyes are still hesitant, dark. He doesn't speak for a long moment. But finally gives your hand a squeeze and asks “Do you want to leave tomorrow?” 

“Yes.” you say, grasping Ben’s large hand with both of yours, then give Kuruk a subtle wink, glad that between the two of you Ben had been persuaded to get involved with the mission on the ground.

“OK, I’m going to head home and get my things together for Portland You can finish watching, what-- the other three games happening today?”

“Something like that-- greatest time of the year! Even if it's late!” exclaims Kuruk, smiling widely. 

“Let me drive you,” Ben starts to rise. 

“Thanks, but I want to bike. The air is clean enough today for some exercise. I will meet you at HQ tomorrow morning and we can leave from there?” Ben nods, gives you a strong embrace then a lingering kiss before you leave. 

It feels nice to get outside and move even though the afternoon had turned dramatically hot for SF-- over 80 degrees and shockingly humid. As you ride to your neighborhood you focus on your breath and the feeling of the wind you create against your skin-- another mindfulness tactic you have been practicing. It works to bring you back to a state of relative calm. The simplest pleasures are having a profound effect on you these days.

Soon you pull onto your block grateful for the shady trees lining the street. Sliding off your bike and walking it toward your building doors, however, a sudden eerie feeling strikes. As if someone is watching you. Despite the heat, the hairs on the back of your neck rise. 

You arch your head over your shoulder and stare back to the street, checking both sides, up and down-- there’s no movement at all. Nothing that seems out of the ordinary. You wait, taking a second look, and then a sudden flash of something catches your eye. Snapping your neck to the right you pivot on the landing, and set eyes on-- a familiar large white dog darting around the corner, followed closely by your neighbor who gives you a friendly wave when he spots you.. Absently, you wave back feeling uneasy.  _ It’s nothing. You’re just nervous about going up to Portland.  _ Shaking your head you go inside, lock up your bike and make it to your apartment. 

It was too warm inside. Few buildings in SF had air conditioning because historically it was rarely over 72 degrees, making the sudden spike in temperature uniquely unbearable. James is on the sofa stroking Thomas curled on the floor with two fans angled toward him creating a cross breeze. 

“Heyyyy…” he calls lazily. “It’s so fucking  _ hot _ out. This shouldn’t happen here we’re in the Bay for a  _ reason _ .”

“I know. I just biked home.”

“Ugh! I feel like climate change is attacking  _ me personally.” _

“It’s  _ definitely  _ a personal plot against you, that sounds right,” you say with a grin, grabbing a sparkling water from the fridge and pressing it against your neck. “At least the air is clean today.”

James nods vaguely in acknowledgement. “Did you notice a black car downstairs just now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, plopping down on the other end of the sofa, leaning into the breeze from the fans. 

“There’s been this black car parked on our street the last few days. You’ve been at Ben’s so much you probably didn’t notice. There’s a guy who just kind of sits in it for a few hours then drives off. It’s kind of creeping me out.” 

The skin on your arms prickles. You hadn’t noticed an ominous car on the street, but something had definitely felt—  _ off.  _ “No, I didn’t notice. But I wasn’t looking. How often have you seen it?”

“Not sure exactly, just over the past few days. I’m scared it’s Starkiller. Or another one of your spy friends. Are you being careful, Y/N? How deep are you in this stuff?” James looks at you closely with concern. 

_ Oh not that deep, just searching for a mole within the ranks of our global covert vigilant spy organization…  _ you think wryly to yourself. 

Instead, you say, “‘I’ll be fine, James. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. It’s probably just an Uber driver taking a break.” You reassure him. Although your heart flutters a bit. 

James nods back at you. “Marco sent the last of those documents over to your group. They said he’s in the clear.”

“Good,” you smile at James. Over the past two weeks you have successfully flipped Marco into an Anonymous ally. He has been transferring the documents he had on Exogol Industries Brazillian operation to the Anonymous Latin America team that was sorting through new files now. Another dox could come soon-- Rose was eyeing the week she was back from her break. 

Some of the data scientists had raised the idea of re-running the hacking program through an email coming from Marco to Exogol’s leadership, but you had vetoed that idea with the backing of Rose and Ben, too spooked after the first breach to try the same tactic twice. If Starkiller found it a second time it would be another “coincidental” connection back to you— and this time to James. You weren’t comfortable risking it. Fortunately there hadn’t been too much pushback, although Anakin had been notably disappointed. Because you had already won strong early victories for the group, however, people listened when you drew a line in the sand. 

Thomas begins to creep over to you, seeking attention in your lap. When you make a kissing noise at him he pounces up and starts to roam over your legs. “I’m going to Portland with Ben for a few days. We're going up to protest, help the movement up there.” 

“Oh! That’s interesting. Be careful, Y/N— the Feds are in Portland and they’re  _ savage _ . In a  _ bad _ way.” 

“I know! I know. You sound like Ben! I’ll be mindful. I need to pack though.”

“You better not try to move right now, Thomas has gifted you with his presence.”

“Great point,” you agree, stroking Thomas as he circles a few times and finds his happy place nestled against your thigh and a sofa cushion. ‘I’m stuck here until his majesty releases me. What are you watching?” 

James fills you in on the show he has on, while your mind races. You know Ben is not entirely comfortable with you going up to Portland, and would probably continue being a bit protective when you got there. Although you can’t say it was not without cause. Ben had much more experience in these kinds of environments than you; maybe he  _ did _ have a point. The last time he had been out with the Field Team it had been confrontational and violent; and the protests in Portland seems even more oppressive than in Seattle. 

You had already been somewhat burned with the breach and the Anonymous investigation into how deep their security probe had gone was still unresolved. Plus you realize that in the face of an overwhelming Federal force and the chaos of a riot, there would only be so much he-- or anyone-- could do to protect you. Nothing about this was a game. 

You pop open your can and take a long sip of the cold sparkling water. James lets out another complaint about the heat with a dramatic sigh. You settle into a comfortable groove on the couch and decide to trust your judgment that heading to Portland was a good decision, quickly saying a prayer that you were making the right choice. 

* * * 

The next morning SFHQ was buzzing. Trump was planning to ban Tik Tok in the U.S., largely in retaliation from the disruption the app had caused to his Tulsa rally in June. On one hand it was immensely flattering that one of your missions could trigger him so directly, but it added to the general sense that the U.S. was slipping further into a harsh and petty autocracy where dissent was put down with rapid, deliberate force. 

Sipping an iced coffee you had picked up from Danielle at the cafe on your way here, you wave over Anakin when you notice him arrive. 

“Hey! So I just wanted to confirm something about when you set up my new phone-- it's untraceable right?”

“Oh! Yes of course. I made sure it had the highest Anonymous security on it. Was there a problem?”

“No! No. I just wanted to make sure before I head up to Portland.” 

  
“Ah, makes sense,” he says, setting up his workspace on a desk behind you.. 

“I might just be feeling paranoid. My roommate said there was a car parked out front with a man in it for a few hours, it was strange.”

Anakin tilts his head curiously. “Well, that wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen in San Francisco! I’m sure it’s nothing. Whenever people get burned they tend to get a little suspicious about everything. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah you’re probably right.” you agree, taking another sip of your drink. 

At that moment you notice Kuruk strut in, mirrored sunglasses still on. He gives a general wave to everyone in the room before walking toward Ben’s office and giving you a head nod indicating for you to join him. He had arranged a Portland orientation this morning for you and Ben before you started driving. Saying thanks to Anakin you pop up to follow. 

You sit cross legged on the sofa in Ben’s office, your laptop open taking notes while Kuruk goes over the key points. The lead of the Portland Field Team was a woman named Zorri and she was working with Cardo to set the strategies and the tone of the protest each night. Kuruk had already briefed her on your trip and she had found you both a place to stay so you wouldn’t have to provide information to a site like Airbnb. There was evidence that the government was tracking protestors in increasingly invasive ways and this would allow you to remain off the grid. Or so you all hoped. Once again you promise Ben that you will not rush directly into the thick of things and will retreat if the situation on the ground starts to turn aggressive.

Rundown complete, you slide on your backpack and are heading toward the door when your phone buzzes in your hand. At the same time you hear Ben’s start to vibrate loudly on his desk and watch him reach for it. Kuruk furrows his eyebrows, then reaches inside the cross body bag strapped across his chest retrieving his pulsing phone as well. You bite your lip. _ Why were you all being contacted at once?  _

It’s a notification from Signal-- from Rose. A group chat to all three of you: 

_ Jumping back in from my r&r because I just heard-- one of our coders working on the breach was able to hack into some files at Starkiller. They know about Y/N. They know the spyware came from her message. _

  
  


You read the message again. Then a third time. Frozen in shocked silence. 

Kuruk is the first one to speak: “Fuck…” 

Finally you sputter, “Do-- do they know I’m linked to Anonymous?”

“They shouldn't,” Ben says in a low tone. 

“What does this mean? We’re about to head out of town now to Portland,” you say, stating the obvious. “So even if they know about me, they shouldn’t be able to  _ find _ me. Right?”

Ben nods. “Heading up there may be for the best right now.” 

“They can’t hack me, can they? They can't track my phone?”

Ben answers, “No, Anakin upgraded the new one for you. It has our highest security programs on it. No one should be able to trace it,”

“Wait-- so you can't track me anymore? That’s your favorite.” you say with a tease in your voice, cutting the tension a bit.

Gently, Ben laughs and reaches out a hand for you, pulling you close around the waist while he sits in his desk chair and thinks things through. “No,” he replies after a beat. “I haven’t since we upgraded you.”

Kuruk cuts in, “It may not be a bad idea for the protests though actually.” Seeing your surprised look he raises his hands a bit. “Not that it's my business! I’m just saying. Things can get wild and people get separated. It could be helpful when you get up there.” 

“No, yeah, you’re right.” You look down at Ben. “Go ahead Anonymous, hack my phone. Can you do it now?”

He nods, takes your phone. “I only need like ten minutes. Fifteen tops,” he says, connecting your phone to a cord and swiverling to face his screens. 

Nerves fraying, you tap your fingers against your thigh, not sure what to do or what this means. “What will they do if they find me?” 

“They won't.” Ben growls looking up at you from his desk.

“But babe--” 

He repeats again, voice low and sharp as a knife. “They.  _ Won’t _ .”

“Ok….” you respond in a soft tone, giving Kuruk a sidelong look; he looks somewhat less sure about that. 

Kuruk turns to you, his voice more serious than you’d ever heard it. “Y/N you’ve never been out in something like this before. Stay with Ben. Or Zorri. Don’t get pulled into any group that you didn't come with. Try to take photos of people being aggressive. If you see guns in the crowd, let your team know and get out of there. Keep a record of everything you see. Going live is good-- Cardo does that a lot-- but you can't always save it. I prefer standard video so it's saved to your phone. Make sure it goes to your cloud so have a second copy if these fascists force you to delete something. Turn off facial recognition on your phone; make sure you need a passcode to open it.”

You listen, blinking rapidly, trying to absorb it all. 

“I know you have protective gear, that’s good. You  _ will _ get pushed around, no matter how much the group tries to keep you out of the thick of it. So knee pads will help. Cover all of your skin-- they’ve been gassing. You didn't pack any patterns did you?” You shake your head ‘no’. “Good. Keep your clothes simple. All black is best. Wear your hair up or pulled back. You don’t want anything about you to stand out. You want to melt into the crowd. Be untraceable. Move like water.” 

“Yes. I understand.” You reply, heart racing. 

“Ok. You’ll be fine. You’ve got this.” Kuruk gives you an encouraging smile. 

“Alight I’m done,” Ben cuts in then. “I now have access to your location but the rest of the Anonymous software is still in place. No one should be able to trace you without knowing our internal codes.” 

“Ok.” you repeat. Mind throbbing, a bit overloaded. 

“Are you ready to go?” Ben asks, standing suddenly eager to leave. He grabs his bag then yours and reaches out for your hand. 

You pause a moment. Swallow. Blink again. “Yes. I’m ready. Let’s go.”


	27. Portland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight you would head out to your first night of intense confrontational protest. 
> 
> Maybe that’s why your nerves were frayed. That and the menacing sense that you had left San Francisco fleeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~ SHOUTOUT TO THE RESISTERS IN PORTLAND YOU ARE SUCH AN INSPIRATION ~~

All you had done was ask a simple question about how the Tesla handles and ten minutes later Ben had pulled over to the gravelly side of the road, exited the car and refused to get back in until you agreed to learn how to drive it. He had assured you that there was no better place for you to practice than outside the city on some low traffic roads. While in your head you knew it couldn’t be that different from what you are used to, the machine is intimidating and you feel nervous just sliding into the driver's seat. The leather is warm from Ben’s body. The sharp spice of his woodsy cologne floods your senses as he stands closely beside you, one hand braced on the open door, the other adjusting your seat and mirrors then pointing out the dashboard features, his voice tinged with excitement. 

Ben had been driving for hours and at first you figured he might just be feeling antsy and ready for you to take over for a bit, but clearly from the sparkle in his eyes he was earnestly enjoying teaching you something new. It was genuine and sweet; the realization makes you glow a bit inside, turning toward him to smile softly through the rest of your Tesla orientation. 

The plan is to make it to your temporary housing in Portland by late afternoon, drop off your things and then meet up with Cardo and the rest of the Portland Field Team for dinner at their local pod leader Zorri’s. After an update and a briefing, you would head out to your first night of intense confrontational protest. 

Maybe that’s why your nerves were frayed. That and the menacing sense that you had left San Francisco  _ fleeing _ . 

You can't get over the flash of protective urgency in Ben’s eyes as he grabbed your bag in his office and quickly hustled you both out to the car… or Kuruk’s rapid fire warnings which had been echoing through your mind for hours… then James had noticed a strange car and a man waiting outside of your house  _ for days _ ...

“Ok, I think you’re all set.” Ben says with a grin, closing your door and lightly jogging to the passenger seat where he had to adjust the seat all the way back to fit his long legs; and then angle it down to accommodate his height. He rests his large palm on your right thigh, giving it a squeeze. “You ready?”

With some effort, you shake your head to clear out the shadows. His enthusiasm is a soothing balm to your uneasiness. You nod then gradually pull the Tesla back onto the road. Adding a touch of pressure to the gas it launches forward with a sharp acceleration that takes you entirely by surprise and suddenly you’re flying at nearly 80mph-- pupils wide, you resist the urge to scream as your stomach drops. 

Ben’s hand tightens on your thigh but he laughs. “The speed limit is 65, just so you know.” 

“ _ Fuck… _ ” you murmur, pulling your foot back, breathing rapidly. The speed drops to the legal limit. Ben leans forward and sets the autopilot and Tesla starts to self drive. 

“See? You’re doing great.” He says, looking toward you and stroking your hair back as your heart starts to slow down. He presses a kiss on your temple. 

“ _ Fuck… _ ” you breath again on an exhale, still feeling the rush. The thrill of the acceleration coursing through your blood. But then you smile. Ben leans close and cups your face, kissing you tenderly, his full lips lingering on your own. 

“How much longer to Portland?” you ask as he settles back into his seat. 

“About three hours. We should be fine using autopilot for most of it,” 

“Mmmhmm,” you reply, now settling into the smooth flow of the vehicle. “So tell me about Cardo and Vicrul. And Zorri. What should I expect?”

“I haven’t met Zorri, but Kuruk and Cardo say she is a strong leader for this pod. She’s a journalist.” 

“Really?” you ask. 

Ben nods. “Yes. She was originally just monitoring the protests, but when the police got violent against the press earlier this summer it triggered something in her. She started building a protest group around her, including some of our operatives without realizing it. Then when Cardo came down he brought her more into the fold. They’ve been working together on the protest strategy and how the media is covering it. Making sure the Constitutional issues raised by the police violations against the press are included. For some people, the black lives matter element of the resistance doesn't resonate,” Ben rolls his eyes. “But for whatever reason, the attacks against the press  _ do _ .” He waves a hand dismissively. “Anyway, it helps that we can bring attention to both of these issues every night. Although it's-- frustrating-- we need everyone to care about this moment, about what we need to do to change things.” 

“That makes sense,” you say, casting a glance in his direction. “And the others?”

“I went to college with Cardo and Vicrul. Cardo is a bit wild, always up for fight of some kind. Since we graduated he’s always working for a cause somewhere, community organizing, leading protests. Vicrul is more laid back, he spends a lot of his time on theory. He teaches high school history now. Loves it. Always tries to give his students the truth of things, not the sanitized version of the world. It’s gotten him in trouble a few times, but he’s charming enough to talk himself out of any real trouble. That’s another reason he’s good to have around.” Ben turns to you with a smile. “They’re both really looking forward to meeting you.” 

You blush a bit. “What do they know about me?” 

“They know you’re coming to help, so that’s a point in your favor. And they know whatever Kuruk told them-- probably that I’m smitten, so they better be nice.” 

Eyes still on the road, you bite your lip. “Are you smitten?” 

Ben leans closer into you, the long reach of his arm draping around your far shoulder. His other hand tilts your chin toward his face. For a moment you worry with your eyes off the road but then you remember this machine can self drive. In a low melodic tone Ben says, “I’m more than smitten. You should know that.” 

“Maybe I should… but what if I don’t?” you respond teasingly. You want him to say it. 

“I’m very much in love, actually.” Ben replies, now grazing your lower lip with the pad of his thumb, sparkling hazel eyes fixated on you. The intensity of his gaze makes your breath stop short. 

“Oh,” you manage to breathe. 

“Oh?” Ben echoes, eyebrow arching. 

Only then does it occur to you that it wasn’t a proper response. You smile into that gaze, that striking face. 

“That’s lucky for me then,” you purr. “Because I am very in love too.”

You draw him toward you, sliding your tongue forward for a real kiss. One that grounds you in the moment. A glorious distraction from what you had left behind in SF; from what might be waiting for you in Portland. He deepens the kiss and you reach your hands into his long dark waves, moaning into his mouth as he presses his chest even closer to you. The Tesla’s center console an irksome inconvenient barrier. 

“Mmm…” Ben whispers against your lips. “I want to pick you up and put you on my lap,” 

“And then what?”

“Grip your hips and have you grind over me…” he pants, devouring your mouth again when he was done. You pull back and leave a kiss on his sharp jawline; then a row of them in a slow sensuous trail toward his earlobe. “I want to pull off your clothes, and mine… and I want you to slide that tight, dripping pussy all the way down around me...” he voice trailed off. 

You bite the sensitive lob of his ear and Ben growls. “Goddamnit, Y/N… We have--” he checks his Apple watch-- “almost three hours left driving.” 

You pull back, casting him a long sensuous sidelong glance. “Do you think I can make it in two?”

Ben turns to you with lively eyes. “There could be traffic cops. Although I haven’t seen any yet,” he swivels his head to look up the road and back. Besides the Tesla, the road on both sides was empty. “I can be your lookout?” 

“Do it.” You take the Tesla off autopilot, add pressure to the gas, this time prepared for the car to launch forward, leaning into its instant acceleration that sends you flying to 80mph… 85mph… even more as your stomach drops. But this time you were ready for it. The power of the machine thrums through you and for a moment it feels like your flying. 

Ben is grinning at you from the passenger seat, and you can see a strong hard line pressing against his dark jeans. You turn to him with a wicked smile and give a shout: “ACAB!” 

* * *

A steady reggae beat thrums from the back of Zorri’s cute cottage-style house as you and Ben open a side gate and walk down a narrow path leading to a large lawn. You recognize the song, it's  [ a classic anthem by Peter Tosh ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOZQZAX4deM&ab_channel=PeterToshVEVO) . The lyrics float through the air as the sun sinks behind the tall trees lining the neighborhood streets, making soft shadows as the day settles into dusk. 

_ Everyone is crying out for peace _

_ None is crying out for justice _

_ I said, "if the one is crying out for peace" _

_ I said, "none is crying out for justice" _

_ But there will be no peace _

_ 'Till men get equal rights _

_ Equal rights and justice _

_ Equal rights _

_ Equal rights and justice _

_ Equal rights _

_ Equal rights and justice _

_ Equal rights _

_ Equal rights and justice _

  
  


You smile widely to yourself, already loving the energy of the Field Team. This was immediately a very different atmosphere from the SFHQ, where the tech-industry sourced operatives worked with a quiet and steady efficiency-- noise cancelling headphones  _ on _ . Although they had opened up significantly more over the past few weeks, nothing about the SF pod exuded this level of mellow approachability. 

As you emerge from the narrow passageway you spot Vicrul, Cardo and Zorri in the yard. Vicrul was the first to spot Ben, and bounds up from a perched seat atop a long picnic style table with a charming smile moving forward to welcome you both. He was remarkably tall like Ben-- you guessed around 6’5-- brown skinned with a slight afro of tight curls, his honey brown eyes radiating a sharp intellectual energy. He was also broad shouldered like Ben, the deep cuts of his arm muscles shifting with his every movement. The two of them standing together nearly seemed to form a  _ wall  _ of hulking man.  _ Jesus _ . 

“Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it. Thanks for dragging Ben up here. Cardo had been trying for weeks but none of us could break through to him,” he gives Ben a teasing look. You like him instantly. 

“I’m happy to be here! It’s so good to meet Ben’s friends.” And it was. When you first met Ben he was just a sexy solitary enigma; and then you’d been brought into the world of Anonymous where he was a leader-- maybe even a commander-- of this important and vaguely threatening group. But now, months into it you were getting a chance to see who he was with the people who knew him best; with people who had known him for years, before he had become all the things he is now. It was fascinating to see who he was when he was not singularly focused on bringing down the establishment. Although-- you reason with yourself-- you  _ were  _ meeting them all at an Anonymous pre-protest meetup so maybe your initial impressions weren’t  _ that _ far off. 

Cardo and Zorri still hadn’t noticed your arrival. They were standing shoulder to shoulder at a grill, both of them holding long tongs as they talked rapidly back and forth. Zorri’s head snaps sharply and for a moment you think they are fighting as her wild honey blonde curls fly around her face, but then you notice the lilting tones in her voice followed by a resounding laugh from Cardo and understand that a sharp flirtation was more likely. 

“Cardo!” Vicrul calls over to them with a save and when he turns and spots you and Ben his face brightens. 

“Hey!” Cardo yells across the yard. He was yet another impossibly tall man, his hair almost a white blonde, the angles of his face classically handsome, apparent even through the black bandana he had wrapped over his lower face. Under the long sleeve basic black tee and dark denim he wore casually without pretense you can tell his body was chiseled like classical sculpture. 

_ My god _ , you think to yourself. All of Ben’s friends were  _ giants _ . And  _ gorgeous _ .  _ What kind of college clique had this been? _ Further, they all radiated a tangible aura of power. Each man held himself with total confidence, perhaps rooted in the strength of their convictions. You had the sense that they could defeat their opponents with their ideas in addition to brute force if necessary. In any case, seeing the three of them together was a bit overwhelming. 

“Y/N! Glad to finally meet you! Thanks for dragging this guy up here, Kuruk told me it was all your doing.” 

You smile again at your new reputation as the Ben Solo - whisperer. You supposed there could be worse things. You walk closer to Cardo as Vicrul and Ben catch up. Zorri turns as you approach, her green eyes still twinkling with amusement over a black cloth face mask with a small raised fist on its lower right edge. 

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Zorri. We weren’t sure if you eat meat or not, so we have hot dogs, turkey dogs and veggie dogs on the grill.” 

“Oh my goodness, that’s so thoughtful! I eat everything though. All the options sound great.” 

“The veggie dogs are actually pretty good, although Cardo doesn't believe me,” Zorri said, giving him a look through narrow eyes.    
  


“I was just making the point that the only way Y/N would eat that is if she’s also vegan. There’s no way it can compare to the real thing! How is that controversial?!” 

Zorri smacked his large bicep with the back of her hand and rolled her eyes. Kuruk had made it seem like Cardo didn’t stand a chance with his crush, but from merely this brief interaction of the two of them you weren’t so sure. 

“I’ll eat veggie with you, Zorri,” you concede. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” she smiles back to you then shrugs her shoulders back at Cardo wordlessly conveying  _ See?!  _ He looks down shaking his head, but you notice the grin doesn’t leave his face. 

Turning some eggplant and zucchini also on the grill, Zorri casts a look over her shoulder at you. “Did you guys find the place alright? Were you able to get settled in the supporter housing?” 

“Oh, yes, we did! It’s great.” you reply trying to keep the flush out of your face. 

You had made it to Portland about an hour ahead of schedule by driving the Tesla somewhat wildly, you have to admit to yourself. And as soon as you had made it up to the charming downtown condo a friend of Zorri’s was letting you use for the next week while she stayed with her partner, you had literally jumped onto Ben. Immediately he’d wrapped a strong arm around your back, another under thighs, stumbling forward into the unfamiliar space until he could place you on the nearest counter while he started ripping the clothes off of you. You had done the same for him, burning after the last few hours during which he had intermittently nibbled on your neck, traced teasing fingertips under your shirt and whispered the  _ dirtiest _ things to you in that gravelly voice that made you tremble all over… He was thrusting deeply inside of you in under a minute, his large hands gripping your ass, holding you to the counter edge. 

There was no way for your new friends to know about the new dark bruises from his teeth covering your breasts... Or that you still felt raw between your legs as you stood there, clinking the neck of a cold beer bottle Cardo handed you to his own. There was no way for them to know the glow in your face was from the way he made you come-- miraculously-- from just the stroke of his cock so deep inside of your body, your entire being so desperate for him to be sheathed inside of you after the days stresses and hours of teasing that you had seemed to combust all around him...  _ No _ \-- you command your mind and your body to not flush at the question or get lost in the lingering sensations from the rough sex still pulsing under your skin.  _ Just be normal.  _

“Thank you so much for setting that up. I really hope it's not an inconvenience for anyone.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Her place sits empty most of the time anyway. This way at least it's being put to use by the Resistance,” she flashes you a grin. 

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” you ask, taking a pull from your drink discreetly pulling down your mask. 

Zorri starts to remove the grilled veggies onto a tray and gives them a squeeze of fresh lemon-- everything looks amazing-- then wipes her hands on the kitchen cloth on her shoulder before turning to face you. 

“That depends! Do you want a sign, a shield or a leaf blower?” 

Your mouth drops a bit. 

“Cardo and I think Ben--” Zorri flicks a gaze at the guys standing in a group reconnecting, “want you to stick with me and the other journalists. It  _ should _ be a bit less wild with us. Although these fascist bastards are gassing  _ everyone _ just for being out there. You could go with the guys of course, but Cardo somehow always seems to come back with a new set of bruises. And I hear Ben fights cops,” she emits a rolling effervescent laugh. 

You laugh too. “Well, yes that’s true.” you agree, slipping the neck of the beer under your mask so you can take another sip. “This is my first night out in something so-- intense. I think I’d like to stick with you if that’s alright?” 

“Yes. Definitely. You should still bring a shield though.” She walks you over to her fence where an array of protest gear is lined up. Leaf blowers. Shields of varying sizes. Cloth masks. Plastic face shields. Full helmets. Medical supplies. Gallons of milk, which you had read can combat the effects of tear gas. Half a dozen walkie talkies. Lacrosse sticks. Knee and elbow pads. 

“Wow…” you exclaim. 

“Right?” Zorri looks over the collection with pride. “We don’t play around up here. Resilience is key. The more prepared we are the longer we can hold out. They think by sending the Feds up here they can break us. It’s not going to end like they planned.” 

Your eyes are still combing over the collection, awed, so you don’t notice the guys walk up from behind until Ben’s arm snakes around your waist and his hand curls against your hip. “I can’t believe we need all of this,” you whisper to him. 

  
“We’re not going in there defenseless.” he murmurs into your hair. “You don’t have to come out, you know. If you don’t want to. The situation every night is unpredictable. It's hard to know what to expect.”

“I know. But I want to. I’m going to stay with Zorri.”

“Ok,” he says, kissing your hair. 

“Ben! Y/N!” calls Cardo. “Foods done, let’s eat!” 

* * *

Later that night the group drives downtown in three separate cars, parking a few blocks away from the heart of the action near the courthouse. Cardo had explained that vehicles should be close enough to run to as needed but far away enough it was unlikely to be blocked in by police barricades or crowds fleeing tear gas or flash bangs. 

Over dinner Vicrul, Cardo and Zorri had taught you the standard protest chants they’d been using. They also went over how to rinse the tear gas out of your eyes. Where to find the medics if you were injured. How to signal it was time to retreat with your voice and the non-verbal signs. 

Although you’d had a long day already, the energy of the group was electric and you are buzzing. This work was so different from your normal beat with Anonymous, which was far removed from the actual protest movement on the ground. You had spent months sorting through files and making org charts, thinking through complex international webs of conspiracy; but tonight you’d be doing the direct action. You’d be in the midst of the fight for real.

Stepping out of the car into the dark night you can hear chants you’d learned over dinner echoing from the blocks ahead. Your flex your hands shutting the car door, anticipation coursing through you. 

“Are you ready for this?” Ben asks, his voice muffled beneath his many layers. 

“Are you?” you respond with a playful tease. Although you can't see it, you sense a wry smile from behind Ben’s mask. 

He didn’t look like himself. Although to be fair, he didn’t look like--  _ anyone _ . His massive body is swathed in head to toe black. In addition to his black cloth mask he’s added a full-face airsoft helmet. His massive hands are gloved. He towers over you, a hulking anonymous shadow. Without knowing it was him, the image would be terrifying. The feeling is magnified when Cardo and Vicrul jog up a moment later, their own colossal frames flanking him on either side.  _ Like dark knights _ , you think to yourself. 

Vicrul and Cardo had secured the anti-tear gas leaf blowers across their bodies prepared to blow the toxic smoke back into the federal forces and away from the protesters for as long as possible. They had also strapped lacrosse sticks to their backs, prepared to scoop up and throw back flashbangs and tear gas that landed in the crowd. 

Ben was dressed identically but carried a massive plexiglass shield-- one that another operative with the group had liberated from the feds earlier in the week. Tonight his mission was mostly reconnaissance. He would be working to identify features of the strange mix matched federal occupying force sent by the Trump administration; try to ID any undercover agents in the midst of the protesters; be on the lookout for right wing militias or other violent actors in the crowd. 

Together with their head to toe black outfits, mask, gloves and full helmets, the massive men looked completely otherworldly.  _ Knights _ , you think to yourself.  _ Modern fucking knights.  _

“Take care of yourself. Stay with Zorri.” Ben continues. “Check your phone every hour. Send me a message letting me know where you are. If I don’t hear from you I’m going to come find you, ok?”

You nod. His gloved hand gives yours a squeeze, then he turns to his trio-- his dark knights-- and veers off to the left, the three of them striding quickly and confidently into the fray. 

“They are quite a sight together, aren’t they?” Zorri cuts in, strolling up and walking to your right side and watching the guys head to the front of the black barricade erected in front of the courthouse where the protest crowds gathered. 

“Mmhmm…” is all you can manage. Zorri’s eyes linger on Cardo as he jogs away but you leave all your teasing thoughts unspoken. Although you had become fast friends, you didn’t know her well enough to comment or pry. 

Zorri had made sure you were properly geared up as well. She had helped you to secure knee pads over your two layers of black leggings, given you a black circular scarf mask to layer under your standard cloth one-- two layers of protection against COVID19 in a crowd. Goggles sat at the crown of your head like a headband, ready for use in case they started gassing. You’d chosen a small plywood shield from her collection to take with you, painted with “BLM” scrolled over it in block letters. Although you didn’t have a press pass, the plan was to entrench you with Zorri and her colleagues-- which theoretically would provide an extra layer of security. Just the day before, a judge had issued an order that  [ temporarily barred federal agents from using force against journalists ](https://www.courthousenews.com/judge-extends-order-barring-assaults-of-portland-journalists-by-officers/) and observers at the demonstrations, but no one in Zorri’s group thought the forces tonight would abide by it. The collective acknowledgement of the state’s lawlessness makes your blood run a bit cold. 

Over the chants coming from the crowd lined against the courthouse barricades, a sudden loud static-heavy voice erupts from the loudspeakers:  **_“This is a warning. If crowds do not leave this area at the hour we will clear the grounds using appropriate force. This is a warning and notification. If the crowd does not disperse, crowd-control munitions will be activated.”_ **

Zorri barks a laugh at the euphemism. “Seems like we’re just in time…” Zorri notes, her voice shockingly blase for the scene enfolding in front of you.. 

“Is it like this every night?” you ask aghast. 

“Yes. Worse now with these federal forces. They don't wear badge numbers or any identification. I tried to question one a few days back and … well, that’s where the bruise on my arm came from.” 

“He hit you?” you asked incredulously, scampering across a wide empty street close to Zorri as she hurries to whatever destination she had in mind, likely where the other journalists had gathered. 

“Grabbed me so hard it left a bruise. Then pushed me down. My shoulder hit the curb, that’s where I got the bruise. Luckily I was wearing elbow pads that day. That’s why you need your gear!” she said tapping your borrowed elbow pads with a cheery smile that seemed at odds with the story she had just told you. 

“But you’re press-- how can they act like that when you’re asking questions? That’s your  _ job _ .”

Her smile slips a bit, and her tone softens while she gives you a meaningful look. “It’s like that saying-- who watches the watchmen?” 

Zorri approaches a small group all wearing press passes with a wave. They look glad to see her, each one weary and defiant in their own way. Three seem to be photojournalists with professional cameras looped around their necks. There are two on air reporters with cameramen and crew. Half a dozen others seemed to be local print reporters like Zorri. As she approaches they exchange greetings and she introduces you around. 

“What’s the vibe tonight?” Zorri asks one of the local print reporters. 

“A bit chaotic. Each little group of the feds seems to have a different tactic, a different energy. You can tell they’re not coordinated. There barely seems to be a plan here. Except, suppression.” 

“The theme tonight is fascism,” interjects one of the cameramen. “ [ Look at this ](https://twitter.com/donmoyn/status/1287411517852471297?s=21) ,” he says, displaying a short video which he had taken just a few minutes past. The video showed an activist and former Army medic trying to talk with Trump's federal stormtroopers; suddenly they decide there's been enough free speech for the day, walk up, and pepper-spray him in the face. The video is infuriating-- it looked like something you would see about civil unrest in another part of the world, not the U.S. The magnitude of what was happening all around you hits all at once. 

“All of this to stop a protest movement?!” you exclaim. 

“More than that,” the print reporter continued. “They want to prove that the state can act as it will. That the state makes no mistakes. That the people are wrong to point it out and demand better. They want to show their dominance to demonstrate that we are powerless to stop them. They’re trying to prove to us that resistance doesn’t have a point. That it won’t lead to anything but more pain. But that’s not true.” 

“That’s why we show up every night,” Zorri cuts in. “That’s why we’ll be here, every day, until they realize they can’t win.” 

All you can do is nod, your mind and body swelling with purpose. You lower the shield you are holding and look over the crowd.

[ Over 1,000 people had gathered outside the courthouse ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1285799422446559232?s=20) in downtown Portland and despite the tangible ominousness of the federal troops and bleak anticipation that the situation could turn at any point, the mood among the protestors was generally festive. The vast array of home-made protest signs was so creative that you spend a lot of time reading and pointing them out to the group around you. Some were poignant, proud and spoke to the deep injustice of the moment. and speak clearly to why this group had assembled in the first place. Others were brutally sarcastic, mercilessly pointing out the hypocrisy and weakness of an administration that would go to such lengths to deny justice to its people and brutalize its citizens. 

Just before midnight, the first rounds of  [ tear gas and pepper balls ](https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/07/26/leaf-blower-wars-how-portland-protesters-are-fighting-back-against-tear-gas-forming-walls-veterans-lawyers-nurses/) are fired.

You hear a sharp shout, then watch as a  [ cloud of tear gas ](https://twitter.com/YourAnonCentral/status/1294522535896182784?s=20) begins to rise from the area just beyond the barricade spreading eerily over the peaceful crowd. Another shout and then the roar of the leaf blowers coming to life.  _ Cardo and Vicrul…  _ you think. Another billowing cloud of tear gas starts to rise farther back from the fencing, about half a block from you. One of the guys-- they were too similarly built and dressed to tell which one-- dashes toward the sound,  [ scoops it up with his lacrosse stick  ](https://twitter.com/andizeisler/status/1287544739349139456?s=21) and sends it flying back over the barricade. The crowd erupts in cheers-- so do you. 

A bright spark arches toward the street just in front of you a moment later followed by a startling crash-- the first flash bang of the night. You can feel the impact of the bang in your chest and are momentarily frozen, almost mesmerized by the glare. Around you activists jump back, jostling each other as they rush to get out of range from the next set that you can see curving down from the sky toward your group. 

“Come on!” Zorri grabs your arm and pulls you close to her, turning to run as the mass of people surrounding you begin to crash into your body, each person trying to escape the onslaught. Breathlessly, you pick up speed to match Zorri. After about a block the crowd spreads out, thins and slows and you slow down from a run to a light jog. In the uproar, her clique of reporters has dissipated; it's unclear where everyone had run to. You can see now how easy it would be to be separated from a group and move a bit closer to Zorri’s side. More flashbangs erupt a few feet behind, your body jerking with every loud blast. 

Hands braced on your hips you take a series of deep breaths to steady yourself, blinking wildly trying to get your mind to catch up to the moment. To be alert but not frantic. Watchful but not scared. You refused to give these bastards your fear. Taking another deep breath, you grab your water bottle and take a deep sip. You wonder where Ben is now and if he’d been gassed. Or hit. Amazingly, over dinner Vicrul and Cardo admitted they had  [ built up a tolerance to tear gas ](https://twitter.com/joshuapotash/status/1285499398286462976?s=21) over the past months. They had said this with a laugh of solidarity, but the concept hit you in your gut. Even as your hands tremble slightly as you tuck away your water bottle, you know you can’t back down. Not even if a small part in the back of your mind had been considering the best route back to the car...

At that moment a group of volunteer medics walks past, [ loudly warning the crowd ](https://www.latimes.com/world-nation/story/2020-07-24/federal-agents-tear-gas-rubber-bullets-push-portland-protesters-back) that 50 federal agents had left the back door of the courthouse and were making their way up 3rd Avenue and Salmon Street. The feds were on the move. 

Zorri says, “Fuck. I knew these bastards wouldn’t quit tonight. Let’s try to get back to the other journalists. If we’re just observing…” 

**_BANG! BANG-BANG!_** The crowd starts to scurry back. Before you can really make sense of your surroundings you are staring directly into a line of federal officers only half a block away. Shields up. Weapons out. [Tear gas pillars](https://www.washingtonpost.com/video/national/federal-officers-use-tear-gas-on-portland-protesters/2020/07/13/6d01f5a4-df9c-4119-a670-3de9d7dd4e1f_video.html) gushing in increasingly wider columns to either side. The forces move through the gas undeterred, gas masks on. You remember to pull your own goggles down and adjust the cuffs of your sleeves, pull up your masks to limit the exposure of your skin. They feds are marching toward you but somehow you are frozen in place. 

“Y/N! Y/N come on! We have to move back!” you hear Zorri call to you but it takes a minute to recognize your own name. You’re mesmerized by the moment. The injustice of this response to a protest movement-- a movement triggered by a demand for justice over the murder of civilians-- rushes over you. The video you saw earlier in the evening of the veteran they had gassed unprovoked plays in your mind. This was an illegitimate force. They were bullies. They were cowards. 

Instead of a step back, you take a step forward, fist raised. “FUCK YOU GODDAMN FASCISTS!” 

“ _ SHIT _ ,” you hear Zorri’s voice behind you as she pulls on your arm. But you aren’t done. 

“GO TO HELL YOU FUCKING PIGS! THIS HAS BEEN A PEACEFUL PROTEST! YOU’RE AN ILLEGAL FORCE! AN ILLEGAL OCCUPATION!” 

Zorri has her arm around your waist now, pulling you back. “Y/N, they have guns--  _ let’s go _ . You’re right, but  _ LET’S GO! _ ”

You jerk your upper body back to the feds and roar, “BLACK LIVES MATTER!” 

**_BANG! BANG-BANG!_ **

Pain rips through your body, rippling out from your leg. 

“OH SHIT!” Zorri yells. This time, her grip is able to pull you away. This time you start to run. 

_**BANG-BANG!** _

“OH SHIT!” You yell yourself, as another impact hits you-- this time on the back of your thigh. 

“They’re shooting!” someone yells in the crowd. 

_ They’re shooting?!  _ You think to yourself.  _ Did you just get shot?!  _

“Come on!” says Zorri, rushing you forward away from the troops, your shield forgotten on the pavement. You run three long city blocks, tear gas clouds springing up on either side as you zig-zag around them. You can hear shouting all around you. Activists more disciplined in their shielding make formation and try to stand their ground. Daring to look back, you watch as the state forces crash into their lines, batons waving wildly and crashing down onto them. _T_[ _hey’re using the tear gas as cover…_](https://twitter.com/youranoncentral/status/1294522535896182784?s=21) you realize. You pick up your pace, carening forward until Zorri pulls you both behind a tree gasping slightly. You lean against it, your left thigh throbbing. “They got me too,” she mutters. 

You look up wide eyed, still processing the last few minutes. Your body is a bit too shocked to really feel pain, although your left leg does feel--  _ wrong _ . 

“Rubber bullets. On your first night!” Zorri says, almost proud of you through her own gritted teeth from the pain of her own injury, an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

“They-- they  _ shot me! _ ” 

“I know,” Zorri says, sighing. Reaching into her pack, she pours four Advil into your hand and then does the same for herself. You swallow them all greedily. Zorri looks at you pointedly as you gasp and grimace through the pain. “Do you want to go home?”

A red flare shoots up the sky, followed by three flash bangs in rapid succession. A group of protestors starts to run from  [ a line of charging federal agents ](https://twitter.com/JoshuaPotash/status/1291251309610442752?s=20) , your eyes widen as dozens of people run toward the open grassy area where you lean against a tree -- a human stampede. Watching the scene unfold, your hands turn into fists and your rage rebuilds anew.  _ They had SHOT YOU?! Fuck these Feds…  _

“No. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Zorri’s eyes sparkle a bit. But all she does is nod and after a deep breath stands up straight and offers a hand to pull you forward to standing. 

Shifting on your feet you take a few tentative steps. It hurt-- everything hurt. But you could still move. Zorri flashes her phone in your direction, “Seems like this is a trend tonight.” 

It's  [ a tweet from a fellow journalist ](https://twitter.com/kohzkah/status/1285863009328349186?s=21) . The video was taken a block or so away. Her caption reads: “I got shot 2 more times in the stomach and I did not leave. Shoot me in the head or arrest me. I'm not leaving.” 

You narrow your eyes. Neither would you. 

* * *

“Well, we weren’t arrested tonight,” you offer to Ben as you ease yourself down onto the bed. 

“Minor victories,” he says, joining you on the bed at a recline. 

Ben had found you with Zorri and the other journalists about 90 minutes after you had been hit, feeling like he had enough information from his initial reconnaissance to do a deep dive into what he had learned the following day. He had marched toward the small reconstructed group of journalists in his elaborate protest attire like a towering black column of menace, and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled at his approach; but when he placed a large gloved hand on your shoulder and whispered, “Ready?” you had nearly melted. 

It's now the early hours of the morning but your body only starts to recognize exhaustion when you finally collapse into the mattress. Back at your temporary housing, it had taken you and Ben about ten minutes to fully shed all of your protest layers. leaving a pile of tear gas stained clothes outside on the small balcony. You lean back against a stack of pillows propped on the headboard, wearing only basic black undies and a sports bra, finally able to take a look at where the rubber bullets had hit. The bruises are deep blue and purple; by the morning they’d likely be black. 

“Oh, baby that’s not good,” Ben says softly examining them tracing tender fingers just outside the painful edges. He pops up and goes to the kitchen where you can hear him rummaging around until he reemerges with one bag of frozen peas and another of mixed vegetables. “You should ice it.” 

“OK,” you murmur softly. So tired you are a bit indifferent to his caretaking. Regardless, he uses the bandana he’d been wearing to wrap the peas around the bruise at the front of your thigh, and places the frozen veggie bag beneath you where the second hit the same leg just under your glutes. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood you joke, “Look, these aren’t the only bruises on me…” referencing his teeth marks on your chest from earlier in the day, smiling a bit you pull off the sports bra, and gesture for Ben to hand you a clean oversized shirt to sleep in. 

Ben doesn’t appreciate the humor. His eyes flip up to your naked breasts. “Those are from  _ me _ , This…” he places a gentle hand on top of his makeshift ice compress, not finishing the statement just exhaling deeply, eyes darkening. 

“Before you say it-- you couldn’t keep me from coming out tonight. I’m an Anonymous operative, right? We have to trust each other to make our own calls?” 

“I know all that, but....” He pauses a beat, a pulsing line of tension flexing in his jaw. “I’m supposed to… you’re not supposed to be hurt when you’re with me.” He leans against you, an arm sliding around your waist and you realize he thinks this is his fault, somehow. 

“Oh stop that,” you reply, swatting the hard muscle of his bicep. 

Barely, just barely he nods. “It was the feds? Not the cops?”

“Yeah,” you say breathily. “It doesn’t even hurt so much now, Zorri had pain killers.”

  
“It will tomorrow.” He lays down next to you, stroking your hair back from your face then pressing a kiss to your brow. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? I was with Zorri. And also… I was talking shit. They deserved it! And they shouldn’t have  _ shot me, _ obviously. But I knew it was a risk. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Please?” 

Ben nods and is quiet for a long time. One large hand atop the frozen pea ice compress he’d created, the other buried in your hair at the nape of your neck. Finally he says, “Are you going out tomorrow?”

“I’m not. I have an evening lecture. And homework. I actually have to be a student for the next two days.” He is visibly relieved, but says nothing; then curls against your uninjured side, kissing your lips tenderly. 

“You’re such a fighter,” he breathes against your lips. You smile against him. “Tell me again what you said to those bastards.”

You laugh softly, and blush a bit. It definitely  _ was  _ one of your wilder moments. “I called them fascists pigs,” you admit giggling as Ben smiles. 

He presses a kiss against your neck. “What else?” His mouth trails down your collarbone, then back up using his teeth on your soft skin that was so sensitive right there… 

You murmur, “I said that they were an illegal force and an illegal occupation,..” 

“True,” he says, his voice deep whispering into the shell of your ear making you tingle. One of his large hands rubs up and down your uninjured thigh and you arch into his touch. He strokes you again and you angle slightly, trying to direct his fingers to exactly where you wanted them and… 

“Mmm, Ben…” you moan softly as his hand presses against your sweetest spot over your simple cotton panties. 

“I’m so sorry you were hurt tonight, love. Can I try to make it better?” Whining against his touch you nod your head rapidly. “Just lay back. Let me tend to you,” he commands gently. 

“Mmhmm..” you agree, leaning back into the pillows as Ben slides down your body, nipping your tender skin with his sharp wicked teeth before drawing your panties to the side, curving his two fingers inside at the same moment his tongue presses against your apex. 

“ _ Oh fuck _ …!” you gasp, the pleasure so intense you bolt upright. But one of Ben’s large hands reaches up to wrap around your neck to push you firmly yet gently back down on the pillows. You throw your head back moaning as his mouth and hands between your legs overpowers your every thought. He keeps one hand on your throat holding you down as he licks you in long powerful strokes and thrusts his fingers inside of you with precision pressing against the spot inside you that makes you tremble instantly. 

“Ben… Oh Ben, please…” you murmur incoherently, not even knowing what you’re saying. 

Not stopping the thrust of his fingers, he rises from you just enough to say, “Please what?” 

“Oh God, please don't stop...!” you finish, and he chuckles a bit as he returns to his task. 

When your breath starts to hitch he tightens the grip on your neck. “More…” you whisper. He adds more pressure, making your breathing come even shorter but you love the feeling of his strong hands holding you down. In the next moment you start to tremble. Your legs shake and you moan. Ben moans too, directly into your pussy that is starting to pulse and clench with your climax. You can just hear him murmur, “Fuck…” and that is the sounds that sends you into orbit. You scream. Not a moan; not a sharp cry. Your body feels as if it's exploding a million pieces and you  _ scream  _ for him. The neighbors could probably hear you. Fuck them though; they weren’t really  _ your  _ neighbors. 

When you come down you’re trembling, limp, looking at Ben with dazed eyes. He looks extraordinarily proud of himself. You smile back at him; he should be. No one had ever made you scream like that. You reach out for him, thinking a performance like that deserves some reciprocation but Ben smoothes your hands down, draps an arm around your middle and leans against you. 

“Shh. Sleep, warrior girl. That was just for you.”

You arch your brow,  _ Are you sure?  _

But he just pulls you closer. “Get some rest.” 

You make a contented noise and nuzzle closer to him, full body exhaustion finally pulling you into sleep.


	28. Worst Case Scenarios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was fine. Ben shouldn’t be anxious. Tonight he would stay closer to her than last time, not wander so far afield with Cardo and Vircrul. She’d been getting tips from Zorri all week and with the amount of media that had flocked to cover the protests in recent days maybe the feds would be cowed into less aggressive tactics. She would be fine.

Ben was early. He sat on the expansive outdoor patio of an archetypical Portland coffee shop sipping excellent pourover coffee waiting for Cardo and Vircrul to arrive. He’d been out at the protests every night for the past three nights, each day sleeping in a bit late then combing through the newly gathered intel and trying to piece it back together with what they knew about this strange mix match of federal forces while also staying current with everything Kuruk was balancing in SF on Exegol, Starkiller and the mole. It was a lot to manage at once, and his mind feels overloaded, his body tense. 

Y/N was being deeply studious back at their temporary housing, so much so that she’d spent the past three days and nights deep in lectures and Zoom study groups, missing the continuous protest action in the streets. Ben could tell she was a bit disappointed when he would leave in the evenings, but he had been more than a little relieved that her academic commitments compelled her to stay back. 

Those cowardly bastards had _shot_ her. And worst of all, he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t even known about it until he found her later that night, standing stiffly with Zorri, trying to be tough and make wry jokes with the other journalists through her pain. But Ben knew that despite her bravery, conviction and commitment to the movement she wasn’t used to this. Maybe it was good for her to have a few days rest. At least until the bruises healed. 

Although he understood that the fault lay with the overly aggressive federal forces-- the very problem they were here to fight against-- he couldn’t shake the feeling that her injuries were because of him. Every time he saw those dark marks on her body his chest ached. It _was_ his fault in a broad sense-- he had brought her into Anonymous. If he had been able to get her out of his head-- if he had been able to walk away after their first night together-- she would be safe back in San Francisco. He imagined that she would probably have channeled her need for activism into one of the many political campaigns seeking volunteers and community organizers. Normal activism. _Safer_ activism. Without him, she wouldn’t have had to flee the city in a rush with a possible target on her back, on the radar of some shadowy international security firm with mysterious intentions. 

And now, he had brought her out of the frying pan of Anonymous and into the fire of the violent nightly demonstrations here in Portland. He had been prepared for her to be pushed around by the crowds, startled by the flashbangs and even to need goggles for the tear gas, but he hadn’t really imagined that she would be _shot._

Just as Ben can feel himself start to spiral, Cardo and Vicrul stride up to the patio, place their orders and then take seats across from him. They look no worse for wear considering that when Ben had last seen them Vicrul had been leading a large group in a booming protest chant fist raised in the air like a 1970s revolutionary and Cardo had been organizing a resilient shield formation against the feds like a Trojan warrior. Both of them radiate unfading energy as if they each had a full night's rest. Ben reasoned that by now the Field Team was just built different.

“So what have we got?” Cardo asks, leaning forward toward Ben. It was a broad question but Ben knew what he meant. 

“Your suspicions were right. The feds are some military contractors but mostly branches of DHS: Border Control, prison guards--”

“Prison guards?!” Vicrul cut in, eyes widening. 

Ben gave a nod. “Yes. None of which should be here. None of which have jurisdiction to handle a protest movement. I sent my notes to Zorri, she’s going to do a piece on it. My team is going to amplify this information on Twitter. I think keeping a spotlight on the basic illegality of this operation is the right move. Plus it feeds into how chaotic it's been all week.” Cardo and Vicrul nod. 

“How’s Y/N holding up?” Cardo asks. 

“She’s fine, actually. Plans to come out again tonight. She only was sitting out because of her classes. I know I can’t stop her, but…” Ben rubs the back of her neck. 

“If she’s up for it, we can use her,” Cardo says practically and Ben glares slightly, annoyed despite himself. “Look, I can’t promise she won’t get hurt. No one can! But we have to keep pressure on them. I think the imagery that’s getting out is making it hard for them to sustain this. They [ gassed the mayor ](https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/23/us/portland-protest-tear-gas-mayor.html) last night.” 

Ben nods into his drink, contemplative. Then Vicrul asks, “Anything new from Kuruk? He told me Starkiller has started to make some kind of move.” 

“They traced the program we ran on Exegol to Y/N. We don’t know what they plan to do next. We found out the day we left. It’s been quiet since then.” 

“And the mole?” Cardo asked quietly. 

“We’ve narrowed it down some. Rose had been doing some more background on a few of our operatives in Brazil. But… I think it's someone here. From our pod. They knew as soon as Rose made the decision. There’s only a few of us who were working that mission closely. But it wouldn’t make sense for our coders to leak…”

“Ben-- you said the forces up here include some military contractors?” Vicrul said thoughtfully. 

“Yes. Why?”

“Is Starkiller one of them?” 

Ben freezes. That hadn’t even occurred to him until now. _Oh no…_

“I- I don’t know. These companies organize themselves in such complicated ways to avoid that kind of tracking. I’d have to spend some time on it. _Shit_.” 

It’s silent for a time, the three of them thinking through the possibilities. Ben says almost to himself, “Any U.S. military contracting arm may have a different name, but it could still be linked to them under a parent company…”

Cardo turns to Vicrul. “So not only could Starkiller be tracking our strategy work, they could be here on the ground now? Up here in Portland?”

Vicrul raises an eyebrow. “I’m just thinking out loud. Maybe. You said they were well connected. If they’re one of the big league of military contractors… this is the kind of shit those evil bastards get up to.” 

Ben takes another sip of his coffee. The hot liquid soothing him, but also helping his mind to focus and clear. They probably aren’t up here. That would be too much of a fucked up coincidence. 

Cardo’s phone buzzes on the table loudly, vibrating from a text. He looks down and as he reads Ben notices his mouth twitch up into a happy mischievous grin. Ben arches an eyebrow at Vicrul, who just nods slightly. 

“What’s Zorri talking about, man?” Vicrul asks with a taunt in his voice that Cardo doesn’t even seem to notice. From his expression and change in demeanor it was clear to both friends that his new love interest had just reached out. Cardo is so engaged responding however, he doesn’t even notice their teasing. 

“Oh-- nothing,” he replies, texting back quickly then tucking the phone away in his pocket. Ben and Vicrul just stare at him in elongated silence. “What?!”

“How long have you been sleeping on her couch, now?” Ben asked with a sidelong glance. 

“Or have you made it off the couch and into a real bed?” Vicrul teases. 

“Whatever. That’s my business.” Cardo said, although his smile didn’t leave his face. “Ben she says thank you for the background docs on the feds. She’ll send you her story before it goes live so your team can boost it on social.” 

“Great. Tell her thank you for me.” Ben says with a smile of his own. 

Vicrul cuts in. “How have I been out in the same streets as you two for months and _I’m_ still single?” 

“Are you really though?” Cardo asked with an unbridled laugh. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend--”

“Whatever. That’s only because you have trouble… _focusing._ ” Cardo concludes with a knowing glance over his coffee. 

Vicrul chuckles in response. “Yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“So tonight,” Ben says, refocusing the group, “Let’s keep a closer watch on the journalists.” _...and Y/N,_ he thinks to himself but doesn’t say out loud. Although he knows his friends understand exactly what he means. 

“Since that declaration came down limiting how state forces can interact with journalists, if the feds are aggressive toward them we need to document it, trace it back to the federal unit-- or contractor,” Ben says with a pointed look at Vicrul, “to the extent that we can.” 

The guys nod. “We’ll stay close by.” Cardo says. 

“It’s a good strategy,” Vicrul agrees. “The local Portland crew Zorri’s been training is pretty good at defensive methods and tear gas control now so we can refocus.”

Relaxing a bit more in his seat, Ben only says, “Thanks.” 

A cool breeze blows across the patio, making the leaves flutter in the trees. Portland was more seasonal than SF and Ben can feel fall approaching. It was a strange sensation; time feels stuck in March 2020 when the world had shifted, even though since then so much had changed. Yet here they were-- the pandemic still stunting their lives, the protests still in the streets, and an election quickly approaching. He should call his mother to check on her and see if they needed any help with the anti-Trump work. there may be more ways to engage the closer it got to November. 

Cardo takes out his phone again. “Did Kuruk send you his latest mix?”

“What?” Ben asks with a bit of a smile, pulling himself out of his thoughts. Vicrul just starts to laugh. “Oh no, what has he done…?”

Cardo pulls up a video and before it even starts to play Vicrul begins to lose it even more. Ben studies Cardo’s screen unsure of what he was really seeing, then starts to laugh too. “What..?! What is this?”

Kuruk had set up his DJ gear in the SFHQ and was live streaming. Against an exposed brick wall, his improvised DJ booth was flanked by tall healthy looking potted palm trees and the multicolored moving lights legitimately created a fun, if intimate, party atmosphere. 

Through his own laughter Cardo just adds, “He can’t be contained, man. Since the clubs are closed he’s streaming his sets through IG.” 

“Oh my God…” Ben says, running a hand over his face. To be fair, the SF office was Kuruk’s as well, and it didn’t seem as if anyone from Anonymous was working during that time in the evening. With another sigh and a laugh Ben says, “Well, he’s certainly innovating. Reworking his skill set to be relevant for the moment.” 

“This beat is kind of sick though,” Vicrul adds and Cardo agrees. 

With a shake of his head Ben finishes his coffee. “Shit, I may need to get back to SF soon.”

* * * 

Ben took a moment to watch Y/N sleep. She was beautiful. Calm. Sleeping soundly with a peaceful expression on her face-- even though she slept half sitting up, her head arching into the sofa cushion in what looks like an uncomfortable angle, her coursebook open in her lap. 

He had just entered their Portland studio apartment moments before, bringing her an espresso drink from the coffee shop-- extra hot with oat milk, like she preferred-- as a helpful caffeine boost in preparation for tonight's demonstrations. But instead of finding her in the middle of an animated zoom study group or laser focused on one of those absurdly heavy textbooks, he had found her like this. She looks so serene that Ben feels the urge to pick her up gently and carry her to bed to let her sleep for the rest of the night. But as much as it would give him peace of mind to know that she was here, safe, healing and out of harm's way-- she would absolutely fucking hate that. 

After days of sedentary schoolwork, Ben knew Y/N was eager to get back out with the Field Team. Throughout the week she had been texting with Zorri about better shield techniques in hopes that she would be more prepared and he noticed that her protest gear was already laid out on the bed. Although he feels uneasy about her going out again, Ben had said nothing to dissuade her. It was her choice. 

Ben crouches down beside the sofa where she lay, sliding a cap back onto a highlighter that had slipped out of her hand, leaving a bright yellow trail into the crease in her textbook. Smiling gently, Ben presses a kiss onto her temple, breathing in the fragrance of her hair and releasing a soft sigh. _He was so lucky._ He kisses her again on her brow, then slowly rises to standing, planning to let her get at least another 20 minutes of sleep before he wakes her for tonight. But when he emerges from the shower, half dressed only in dark jeans, her heavy lidded eyes blink awake. Y/N stretches arms overhead, toes pointing under the blanket draped over her feet, then turns those pretty, sparkling eyes on him. 

“Hey,” she murmurs in a soft tone, just the sound of her voice enough to warm his heart a bit. 

She holds out a hand, reaching for him and Ben walks to her to take it, placing a soft kiss there before lifting both of her legs up, sliding into a seat on the sofa, then draping her calves across his lap and stroking them. 

“Hey, love. I brought you coffee.” 

Y/N smiles brightly as she notices, then reaches for the cup on the low coffee table. Ben squeezes her calves as she drinks deeply, then slides a firm thumb into the arch of one foot. Y/N groans low in her throat at the touch, closing her eyes as he does it again with a bit more pressure. 

_Her skin was so soft. Maybe they should both take the night off and just stay here…_

“When are we meeting the group?” Y/N asks brightly, eyeing him over the rim of the coffee cup the excitement in her voice clear as a bell. 

_Or maybe not…_

“I told Cardo we’d meet them in an hour. But we can be late,” he offers with a twinkle in his eye. Y/N raises an eyebrow in his direction, considering. 

Encouraged, Ben continues: “Or--” he starts, taking her other foot in his hand and massaging deeply into her other arch, triggering a soft moan this time-- “we can stay in tonight. We’ve both been going pretty nonstop…”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes flutter shut as he presses his strong hands into her delicate feet, eliciting subtle sighs and at least one quiet gasp. Ben starts to relax into his seat, turning his mind toward a night at home. It might be nice to rest. Cardo and Vicrul would be disappointed, but he was still planning to be up here for a few more days. He could order delivery, then spend the evening holding Y/N in his arms. Take her properly to bed. Unhurried. Slowly. Ben begins to breathe deeply himself, his mind starting to wander towards exactly how… 

“Well, we should get going then,” Y/N said suddenly, sliding her legs out of his grasp and onto the floor. “I’m going to shower quickly then get dressed.” She stretches her arms overhead again, giving a slight yawn. “I’ve been cooped up in here for too long. I'm excited to get back out there.” 

Holding back his disappointment, Ben nods at her as she walks away. But when he hears the door click shut and the water begin to run he leans his head back against the cushions with a sigh. It was fine. He shouldn’t be anxious. Tonight he would stay closer to her than last time, not wander so far afield with Cardo and Vircrul. She’d been getting tips from Zorri all week and with the amount of media that had flocked to cover the protests in recent days _maybe_ the feds would be cowed into less aggressive tactics. _She_ _would be fine._

Ben thinks back to all of those lazy afternoons in Sea Ranch. The way her skin looked when columns of late afternoon sunlight would spill over the gentle curves of her body, tangled in the soft Belgian linen sheets as he took his time tasting her _everywhere_. He thinks of the sounds she makes when he is inside of her, especially when he moves slowly, deeply, allowing her to concentrate on the feeling of every inch of him, on every place where their bodies join. The way she whispers his name the moment before she dissolves into ecstasy… Ben shook his head. They would have another night of peaceful uninterrupted time soon. Just not yet. Tonight, the mission came first. 

* * *

Clouds of tear gas billowed down the streets, the canisters landing so swiftly and so closely together the poison lingered in the air like a mist even when the Portland Field Team threw and kicked them away from the crowds. Ben, Cardo and Vicrul stuck to their plan of staying close to the journalists, closer to Y/N and Zorri. Two hours into the night however, the feds had become indiscriminate in their attacks. The aggression on display tonight seemed almost defiant, as if rather than be cowed by the international attention of their overzealous tactics, they were hell bent on proving that they were unmoved by it. 

“Put your goggles on!” Ben calls out to Y/N, not far from him to his right, although he sees she has already slid them down. Ben rushes to her anyway, pulling her close against his body to shield her from a particularly dense cloud of gas while Vicrul runs to scoop up the canister and throw it back in a long smooth arch across the attack line. While Y/N nestles into him, he quickly ties a bandana around her neck, an additional protection against the gas which could burn her skin. 

“Head that way! With Zorri!” Ben calls gesturing to his right where Zorri and a few other journalists were regrouping out of the gas range across the street. 

  
Y/N looks up at him through her goggles with no fear in her eyes, only determination and righteous anger. Pride rushes through him and he gives her shoulder a squeeze. She nods and starts to jog away toward the journalists, who are now raising their press passes, evidence of the latest violation of police conduct. 

[ A gargled announcement comes from the police. ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1291234994455580673?s=20) Ben is either too far or too close to hear the words clearly, but a ripple through the crowds around him confirm the general message: the police have declared unlawful assembly and ordered protestors to disperse. Arrests would begin soon. 

Cardo jogs up to Ben’s left. “They’re starting arrests,” he yells above the noise of the crowd. 

Just at that moment a group of feds charge into the demonstration and begin to grab protesters at random, [ wrestling them to the street to be ziptied ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1291244875946405891?s=20) . Friends of the captured record every arrest at close range, attempting to free the protesters where possible. All the while, the amplified voice of the police leader-- menacing, yet vaguely bored-- repeats the lines: “ [ Officers are taking lawful action. STAY BACK. Officers are taking lawful action. STAY BACK ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1291244875946405891?s=20).” 

It was bone chilling in its calm and its certainty. Orwellian in its unwavering belief of its own authority. Jarring against the unfolding scene of casual violence. It was the voice of a person who could be confident they were upholding the law as they knelt on a man’s neck for eight minutes until he died. 

Ben’s blood heated and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t retreat an inch. He identified that the charge was from a group of local Portland police. Good. At least they’d be easier to trace. He pulls out his phone and using a stealth zoom app tries to take pictures of any badge names or other identification he can locate. Many officers have it illegally hidden. Regardless, he captures what he can. 

Organizers around him also refuse to retreat far. They do not stop recording the scene. They want video. They want witnesses. They want a record. They call out to a man on the street now pinned down by four officers, [ “what’s your name?!” ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1291245418093764608?s=20) They want to know who to bail out. They want to make sure there is a trail in case anyone was disappeared. 

Vans-- some with official police signage some not-- begin to pull into the street behind the police attack line. They are preparing to arrest them by the dozen. 

“We should get Y/N and Zorri out,” Cardo yells and Ben nods. 

“I’m going to take pictures of these vans!” Ben calls back. “I want to see who they belong to. You get them and get out of here. I’ll meet you at the cars.” They had parked a few blocks back from the protest, per usual. So even though the demonstration and state forces had moved, they still had a clear escape route. Cardo nods then runs up the street searching for Y/N and Zorri. 

Between the gas, the [ charging police lines ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1291248260904976386?s=20) and the vans pulling up at intersections the police had succeeded in [ dividing the large crowd into two groups ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1291253723058982912?s=20) . Ben begins to circle around one, trying to get close enough to take pictures of the van license plates. Vicrul’s voice cut through the crowd; he was leading a chant somewhere behind him. Just as Ben looks back, he sees a line of police rush Vicrul’s group with batons out and zip tie handcuffs raised high. The state descends on them in the blink of an eye for [ a mass arrest ](https://twitter.com/MrOlmos/status/1315162677593825280?s=20). 

Ben slows and half pivots-- maybe he should double back and go to Vicrul. He pauses scanning the chaotic scene for his friend, just as another van pulls up, sliding into the narrow gap separating the two halves of the group. 

Before it fully stops moving, two men hop out, one from the double swinging doors in the back of the van and another from the passenger side. Through the billowing gas Ben can see it was driven by… feds? No. They were dressed in all black, head to toe, with face shields. But… the drivers mask didn’t match the one marching away. They weren’t in uniform. Not cops. Not riot police. Ben’s instincts flared-- _danger_. 

He takes a step toward the van. Then another. _Where was Y/N?_

Ben’s blood runs cold. She had been by his side, then when the gas started to billow he had pushed her away to be clear of it. Cardo had rushed to Zorri and Ben had been secure in the thought that Y/N was now with them both. Taking another step forward he swivels his head to either side, searching for Y/N. She wasn’t in this group. He picks up his pace, starting to march to the other side, the mysterious van never leaving his peripheral vision.

Then, above the sound of chaos and chanting around him, Ben hears a sharp cry. A woman’s voice. Y/N’s voice. 

Ben _runs_. Blindly searching for her through the crowds, through the gas. His long legs carry him across the street quickly. More yelling now-- arguing. Something unusual was happening, even for this environment. People are scrambling back, pointing, camera phones are out. Everyone is wearing black, masks, head gear, bandanas and yet Ben knew that he would recognize her at a glance. 

He takes his eyes off the strange van and the group of men who’d emerged from it for only a moment, maybe two-- scanning for Y/N. She was close, he felt it. _But where was she?!_

“Get off me!” cuts through the crowd and Ben snaps his head toward the sound of her voice. He starts to sprint even before he spots her. And just as the crowd parts enough for him to see what they are recording, what the group around him is screaming about, Ben sees a man hoist Y/N over his shoulder and toss her into the strange unmarked van. They were taking her. **_They were taking her?!_ **

Ben explodes. He launches toward the vehicle making it in three long strides. Instantly his hands wrap around the shoulders of the man who’d tossed her so carelessly into that van. Before he can jump in after her, Ben throws him down into the street 

“What the fu--?” the man starts to say before Ben kicks him in the ribs sharply with the toe of his boots. 

Ben looks up just in time to see the second man inside the van slide the door shut. Before the door fully closes the van speeds off. Ben watches in shock and horror. **_She was inside._ ** Ben can’t breathe. What kind of group was this? They wouldn’t even slow down for their lost mate? They had her. _They had her._

Then his breath came too quickly, in short sharp gasps. He turns back to the man on the ground, clutching his ribs, not yet noticing his companions had left without him. 

Ben circles back and crouches down, gripping his large hand around the mans neck and growls, “Who the fuck are you? Where are they taking her?”

The man chokes under his grip and grasps at his forearm but Ben only squeezes harder. Snatching down the bandana Ben demanded, “Where are they _taking_ her? Who _are_ you?!”

Ben released his grip just enough for the man to take a breath. He supposes he needs to breathe to speak. The man coughs, gasps. 

_She was in that van, alone. With those men. He’d taken his eyes off of them for a moment-- only one moment!-- while looking for her, searching for her in the crowd. And he’d made a mistake._

Ben’s fury rose. He leaned forward, his black mask close enough for the man's desperate breaths to softly fog the shield. “Fucking talk _now_ before I bash your head in,” he repeated his voice wild and unfamiliar to his ears. 

The man looks to his left, to his right, only now seeming to realize he was alone. His eyes widened further. Ben follows his gaze then snaps his attention back to his trembling cowardly face. “Your friends left. They’re not coming back for you. They won’t find you.” 

The man moans slightly. “They wont hurt her.” he gasped finally. 

  
“ _They took her. Why?!_ ” 

“We’re-- they-- they just have some questions…”

“What kind of questions?”

“About her work. She’s… Antifa! They’re-- security. Private security. Is she-- your girlfriend? She’ll be OK. They’re the good guys.” 

Ben stopped breathing. His mind raced. He wanted to kill him. Here. Now. In the street. In the midst of the chaos who would know? Who could track it to him? Ben looks up the street. More riot police just rounded the corner. The crowd around him was thinning. He didn’t have long. 

_They thought she was Antifa? That’s not even a real organization; just right-wing fascist Facebook meme nonsense. How had they found her? They had taken her. She was probably terrified. This man, frozen under the grip of his hand thought he was with the good guys?_

“Who the fuck _are you_? What group is this?”

“It’s cool man!” the man gasped, trying feebly to raise his hands in a surrender motion. “I’m just with a security firm. You've probably heard of us?” He talked fast, gasping for breath between words. “Starkiller? Do you know it? They won’t hurt her. Everything will be by the book--” 

_Starkiller. They had taken her because of Anonymous. Because of HIM._

Ben saw black. He seemed to levitate outside of himself, overflowing with the torrent of his rage, Ben didn’t return back to the world until he felt two pairs of strong hands pulling on his chest, on his shoulder, pulling him off of-- a mess. Well, a man’s face that was now a bruised bleeding mess. 

Time slowed; every second elongated to feel like 10. Ben begins to recognize his breathing. Vicrul’s familiar face comes into his vision. It was Vicrul pulling him off of the man in the street and then up to standing. Ben can tell he was speaking but sound didn’t yet register. _They had taken her. They had TAKEN her._

Vicrul was saying his name. _Shouting_ his name. Cardo was there now too, also pulling him back. A flash bang went off close, too close; too bright. Deafening. Vicrul and Cardo flinch at the sound but Ben still can only hear and recognize his own breath. Jerking his head to the right, he sees riot police approaching them, starting to form a dense line in the crosswalk. 

Zorri runs up to them frantically; her wild blonde curls have come loose from the dark beanie she had piled it under. For whatever reason Ben can only hear her voice, shrieking to Cardo: “They took her! They grabbed her! She was right next to me-- I couldn’t stop them! _Where did they take her?! Where are they going?!”_

Her frantic words brought Ben back to himself. _They had her._ He had to get her back. 

“Cardo!” he yells, instantly his friend's face instantly appearing to his left. “That man on the street. Bring him with us.” Cardo looks surprised, but he doesn’t question it. He doubles back to the man Ben had left lying in the street and hefts him up, one of the man's arms over his broad shoulders. 

Ben turns to Vicrul, “Put him in the car with Cardo and Zorri. Get him to talk. About where she is, how to get her back. Don’t hurt him-- ” Ben looks down at his hand and flexes it. “Anymore.” Even though he wore gloves he knew his knuckles were bleeding. “Find out everything. Keep him away from me. I might-- I don’t want to lose control. Completely.” Vicrul nods and circles back to tell Cardo. 

Vicrul returns to Ben’s side as he walks quickly away from the protest which continues to escalate as more tear gas is loosed, more flashbangs erupt, more protestors hold their positions, shield themselves, endure the blows from the state officers. Ben barely registers the cacophony of noise or the violence all around him. He picks up his pace, starting to jog toward the car. Then run. Then sprint. Wordlessly, Vicrul follows, silently assuring Ben that he was with him and wouldn't leave him alone; that he would fight this battle by his side. 

When they reach the Tesla, Ben takes 30 seconds just to breathe, his hands gripping and releasing the soft leather of the steering wheel. Rage was still coursing through his body. But now, it seems to sharpen all of his senses, like a predator seeking prey. 

Ben takes out his phone and syncs it to Y/N’s, watching intently for the signal to connect. Once it did, and he saw the dot on the screen, moving quickly away from the downtown area he let out a growl. Ben starts the engine and instantly shoots away from the curve, accelerating to max speed through the streets which beyond the protest zone was mostly deserted this time of night. 

Vicrul was silent beside him, until his own phone rang. It was Cardo. He answers before the first ring stops. “Yeah. I’m with him,” Vicrul pauses, listening to Cardo speak on the other line. Ben can hear the tenor of his voice but not the words. “We’re tracking her phone. We’re on our way too.” he said solemnly. 

Ben turns his head, a silent question. Vicrul nods in response. Cardo and Zorri had made the man speak. They had the location too. Cardo would meet them there. Together, they would get her back. 

They would get her back. 

They _would_ get her back. 

_They would get her back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASIDE: Anyone else feel oddly *unsettled* by getting good news/ election results last week? This does not seem like a proper 2020 plot twist! Although I am very VERY here for it, I still am giving any positivity this year a bit of a side eye...


	29. WTF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a deep breath. DO NOT PANIC. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Calm your breath. Center your body. Clear your mind. Then think. Then plan. Then escape. Then you fucking destroy these motherfuckers.

Fuck. 

Deep breath. You _won’t_ panic.

_Fuck!_

No! NO. Take a deep breath. DO NOT PANIC. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Calm your breath. Center your body. Clear your mind. Then think. Then plan. Then _escape_ . Then you fucking _destroy_ these motherfuckers. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

You close your eyes to center yourself and make sense of the last ten minutes. The feds had started gassing. Ben pulled you close, protectively fastened a bandana around the exposed skin at your neck, then hustled you toward Zorri and to what had at the time seemed like safety. You rushed to the other side of the street, coughing despite all your gear-- and stood in a huddle with the journalists you’d been out with before. 

One of Ben’s crew rushed over and handed you a plastic water bottle filled with a solution to neutralize the effects of the tear gas. His pack held a number of them and he began to pass them around to the gathering crowd. He turned his body toward you and called above the noise, “Y/N-- keep blinking until it washes out! Then use your water!” Covered in his head to toe protest gear, you can only identify the man as Vicrul from his voice.

You did as he said, blinking until the stinging abated, then pouring water from the bottle secured to your hip over your face. Your eyes still felt dry and you were confident they were bloodshot. As you shook your head to get the excess liquid from your face Vicrul yelled again, “Put your goggles back on! They’re coming back!” before darting away into the street and scooping up another tear gas canister, throwing it back toward the feds before more of the toxic fumes can escape. 

It was in that moment, as you blinked rapidly trying to focus your vision, that a van had pulled up to a screeching halt only a few yards from where you stood. You never saw the men emerge. The streets were so crowded that nothing registered as odd when two men approached the sidewalk. 

Until one of them said your name. 

You turned your head in his direction. He was wearing head to toe black, and a black face shield. Instinctively, you knew it wasn’t Ben. The tenor of his voice didn’t have the helpful and protective tone of Vicrul. He wasn’t tall enough to be Cardo. But you hadn’t been fully introduced to everyone on Zorri’s Portland team, so you thought maybe it was one of them? 

“Yeah?” you replied breathily, still gasping a bit from the tear gas. 

He had said your name again and you nodded, blinking your eyes rapidly still trying to fully cleanse them. Then he stepped directly in front of you. Close-- too close. You took a step back and bumped into someone in your journalist huddle. Other organizers were busy rinsing their eyes with the solution and gallon jugs of water. If they noticed the bump they were otherwise distracted and further, a bit of jostling was not uncommon or unexpected in this crowd. 

“Come with me,” the masked man said, extending a gloved hand. 

“What?” you asked, shocked. He didn’t respond, just moved forward, and grabbed you by the wrist. “What is this? NO!” you yelled and tried to plant your feet firmly on the pavement, leaning back against his grip. 

“Don’t be hysterical,” the man had growled at you. That word inflamed every instinct in your body. 

“STOP! Get _off_ me!!” You yelled as he lunged, pulling you toward him then using your angle on the curb to lift you onto his shoulder like a bag of flour and striding quickly away from the group. 

When you lifted your head, you noticed the crowd you’d been with start to realize something is wrong. Even then, however, it takes them a moment to understand that you weren’t an injured person being carried away to a medic by a friend. 

“Let me GO you ASSHOLE!” you shouted, eyes pleading as he picked up his pace. Zorri’s head shot up then, her hair wet from the water she had just poured over her face-- and you see her start to shout commands. She ran toward you, but just as you see her leap from the curb to your aid, wild blond curls escaping the confines of her black beanie, the world seemed to flip as the man tossed you carelessly over his shoulder into an unmarked van. 

In the disoriented moments while you tumbled into the vehicle-- mercifully without pain thanks to the very effective kneepads you’d borrowed-- you had spotted a towering form in the van doorway. It was Ben. You knew it was him instinctively without reason, and started to scramble to your knees preparing to bolt just as Ben dragged your captor away from the doors and down into a heap in the street. But before you can jump out— before Ben can even look back up at you-- the van lurched forward, its momentum knocking you on your ass and into the far wall. Then a second man appeared from a corner of the vehicle and crashed the van doors shut as it pulled away, trapping you inside. That was when you started to scream. 

You kept screaming while the silent man bound your wrists together behind your back while the driver called over his shoulder that this was only a precaution until they made it to their headquarters. Trying to soothe you, the driver also mumbled something about how they were the “good guys” and only wanted to ask a few questions so you shouldn’t be worried, but that was obviously bullshit. 

You had snapped back, “You don’t pull women off the street and into windowless vans when you’re the fucking good guys, you prick!” 

And although you were right, that bit of honesty had earned you a gag in your mouth as well. The silent asshole now sat on the floor of the van across from you glowering, as if your petulance had hurt his feelings. You stare back, contempt radiating off of your skin in tangible waves. 

Now you sit generating your own sense of calm despite his icy gaze. Despite the cold metal of the van floor. Despite the ties on your wrists that are starting to cut into your skin. 

You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Focusing and formulating a plan. 

* * * 

By your own account it seems as if you had been driving for less than an hour when the van stopped. Good, That means you shouldn’t be too far away from downtown Portland. The driver, whose face you had yet to see, rolled down the window to bark orders and you can hear shuffling outside the vehicle; at least two more people are at this location. The crunch of the gravel under the tires seems too loud as the van pulls slowly forward into a shadowy garage, it’s darkness settles around you like a blindfold. 

The men outside of the van are talking in low voices to the driver. Arching forward, you spy a jacketed arm leaning against the open window but can't make out a face. Straining, you can _just_ hear a smooth refined voice: “... this seems a little bit excessive, don’t you think? I mean, what’s with the--” the shadowed form leans forward into the van. “ _Jesus_ , is she **gagged** ? What the _hell_.” 

The shadowed man steps back and you hear quick and powerful footsteps approach the side of the van. A moment later the heavy sliding door is yanked open. You can't help but shut your eyes as a glare from the single bright overhead light hits your face, casting long shadows onto the man before you. He stands still for a long moment, only a dark silhouette. 

“Hello Ms. Y/LN,” the figure purrs in your direction. 

Your heart skips a beat. All your thoughts crash into each other at once. _You know that voice_. 

The figure leans forward into the van a glint of light reflecting off a shock of copper red hair. Standing in front of you is the Managing Partner of Exogol Industries— Armitage Hux. 

He has the audacity to give you a slight rueful smile. “Apologies for all of this,” he waves his hand in a sweeping casual gesture, apparently referencing the van, the brutes who took you, and your kidnapping off of the goddamn street. 

He continues, “It seems that our security contractors can get a bit-- _enthusiastic_.” Hux shoots the silent asshole a sidelong glance that exudes annoyance. “It’s been a bit of a challenge reminding them that they’re not running security for the damn cartels like they’re used to.” 

Hux reaches out but you pull back sharply away from his touch. He pauses for a beat, then arches an eyebrow sky high. “You want to stay in the van with _him_? I just want to talk. Plus, I made tea.” 

Your face is set in a mask of defiance and you don’t move. 

Hux reads the fear and distrust in your gaze. Then barks at the silent asshole, “Take that gag out of her mouth, you brute. And-- _Gods_ , did you bind her wrists? Where were you stationed before? You know, in the U.S. it's frowned upon to abduct women and pull them into windowless unmarked vans. Fuck-- if anyone has footage of this it’ll be _another_ mess for me to have to clean up and I’m charging it directly to you. Not to Starkiller-- you _directly._ _Your_ paycheck.” 

Hux continues his litany of complaints as the man cuts the zip ties from your wrists and pulls the gag from your mouth. You shake your arms out, ignoring the tingling as the blood flows back into your hands.

“ _Christ.._.” Hux mutters, watching you with what may be a hint of concern. 

But when the silent man shifts his hostile gaze to yours all of the fury you’ve been holding inside erupts. Before you form a conscious thought you pull back your still-tingling arm and punch the silent asshole directly in the eye with the full force of your body. It lands with a satisfying impact and takes him so much by surprise he barely even makes a sound as he stumbles down to the floor of the van. Hux’s shocked but delighted laugh erupts and echoes through the cramped space. A second later you are up on your knees, ready to pummel his face again-- your second hit explodes onto the bridge of his nose, so intensely when you pull your hand back it starts to ache. 

Hux wraps a firm hand around your wrist before you can strike a third time, pulling you close to his torso then binding you to him with a rigid forearm wrapped around your middle. Regardless, you still get in a strong kick to the silent man’s groin. 

“Well, I guess that’s why they bound you in the first place,” Hux says from behind you, banding his other strong arm around you to hold you still and in place. 

You smirk as Hux drags you back toward the doors of the van, proud that you remembered to form a proper fist in the way Ben had shown you months back after detailing how he’d punched that cop in Seattle. The memory rushes over you now, even as the silent asshole begins to mumble profanities from his huddle on the van floor. Ben had gently folded your hand into the perfect strike position as you lay next to his warm hard body, and studied your form as you made slow practice jabs against the base of his giant palm. 

“That was amusing. But any more of that and I’ll have those restraints put back on.” Hux says softly yet forcefully into the ticklish space between your neck and shoulder, sending a lingering chill down your spine. “Come on, now.”

You struggle against his tight hold, but from this angle you can’t free yourself. Turning your head sharply you face him. Although a few inches shorter than Ben, he is stronger than he looks. Well muscled biceps and forearms clutch you to his chest and you glare at him for a long moment, not speaking, He was holding you too tightly for you to strike him in any way. You take a deep breath, then another considering your limited options. You trust no one. 

Staring into your eyes, Hux slowly loosens his hold and releases you, then takes a step back away from the van. “Alright…” he says, raising his arms in a surrendering motion and giving you the space to exit the van on your own. “I’m just trying to get you out of that van and to some place where we can talk. Is that alright? I understand from the look of things you’ve had quite a rough evening so far. I’m sorry for that. These louts went off script and didn’t exactly follow my instructions. And like I said, I made tea.”

The silent asshole-- still clutching his face and between his legs-- rolls to his side still groaning and his knee colliding with yours is exactly the trigger you need to jolt forward out of the van and into the large warehouse space. 

Hux merely nods as you emerge, standing straight backed in front of you wearing black jeans, a sleek black Patagonia zip up and well made black leather boots, Breathing deeply, you find your footing on the uneven gravel and nervously run slightly shaking hands through your hair trying to gather yourself. Spots of blood are pooling at your knuckles from the punches. _Worth it,_ you think. Overwhelmed with emotion and adrenalin, you don’t feel any real pain. 

“Right, then. Let’s try this again,” Hux said formally, although you can detect a hint of a tease in his voice. He’s amused. You are terrified, bleeding, eyes probably still bloodshot from tear gas and he’s— enjoying this?! 

Hux extends a hand to you like a proper gentleman you are meeting at a formal cocktail party. 

“Hello, Y/N. Good to see you. Let’s talk.”


	30. No good options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, you are a hard woman to find?” Hux says finally. 
> 
> You take another sip of tea, not ready to start talking. During questing and interrogations, you have been taught to always advise clients to stay silent. But this isn’t a police interrogation room. There are no Miranda rights in whatever illicit bullshit situation you were in now. Anything goes.

To your surprise, Hux really had made tea in the small but not uncomfortable upstairs office. The space was simply decorated and as you sit on a basic office chair, your eyes trail him warily while he pours the steaming liquid from a large glass tea press into a hefty ceramic mug and places it on the desk in front of you. Instinctively you take it into your hands, the warmth is soothing despite the circumstances. Your nerves are frayed; it still takes a bit of mental concentration to breathe deeply and remain calm. 

Hux flicks his eyes up to watch you while he circles to the other side of the desk, then pours a mug of tea for himself. “Do you need milk or sugar? I don’t have lemon, I'm afraid.” Hux states in a low composed voice. 

“No,” you breathe just above a whisper. 

His overall demeanor was so assured, unbothered, in control. As if he hadn’t orchestrated your kidnapping. As if you hadn’t been half dragged out of a van. As if you might have been meeting in his office to discuss your summer associate position. 

You sip your tea slowly, trying to formulate a plan while staying hyper aware of your surroundings. There are eight people downstairs in the warehouse garage. This was the only office on the second level. You and Hux were alone, but he hadn’t shut the door, so the audible din of the people downstairs floats upstairs. Unfortunately you can't make out the words. 

“You know, you are a hard woman to find?” Hux says finally. 

You take another sip of tea, not ready to start talking. During questing and interrogations, you have been taught to always advise clients to stay silent. But this isn’t a police interrogation room. There are no Miranda rights in whatever illicit bullshit situation you were in now. Anything goes. 

“I tried to come talk to you at home in San Francisco but you haven’t really spent much time there of late.” Hux arches an eyebrow at you, and takes a drink of tea. 

_Oh no._ James’ warning had been right. He had noticed black cars idling on your block; and you had even noticed an eerie feeling on your block the day you broke your bf bubble to bike home... _Why don’t you have a weapon on you?_

“New boyfriend?” Hux asks coyly. From the spark in his eyes you know he is smirking from behind the mug. 

You blast a hateful glare back, nostrils flailing. _What does he think he knows about you? What does he think he knows about_ **_Ben_ ** _?! Don’t mention Anonymous. Don’t mention Anonymous. Don’t mention Anonymous..._

Hux smiles slightly and leans back in his chair somewhat backing off. “Ok, fine. None of my business, is it?” He runs a finger around the rim of the mug now sitting on his desk. “Although… maybe it is…?” his voice trails off and the way he traces a long finger down the curves of his mug sharpens something inside of you. 

“This is the boyfriend that you came up here with, right? The one who got you all geared up for your Antifa street party? Hmm. Yeah, _he_ might actually be very much my business.”

_Ben_ . _This was about Ben._ And Anonymous. This was about the breach. Marco and Rose. Vikrul, Cardo and Zorri… In a flash you remember her wide shocked eyes as she saw you being dragged away and something inside you explodes. 

“Actually you know what? NO!” You erupt, your rage reigniting. “You and your people _grabbed me off of the street!_ You don’t get to ask me fucking anything.” 

Hux starts to open his mouth, a slight flush blooming across his face, but you’re not finished yet. 

“This whole fucking operation is some shadow government bullshit,” you continue gesticulating to the room at large. “I’m not talking to you. And my people are coming for me.” 

_You hope. Oh dear God, you hope…_

Hux stares silently back at you, taking one deep breath then another. His eyes narrow slightly and although not visibly shaken you can sense his temper rising. Finally he asks gently, in a tight but controlled voice-- “Is he really worth all of this?” 

Your mind reels but you don’t answer-- _what?!_

Hux continues, “Maybe you think so. But I don’t think you fully realize what he has really brought you into. He doesn’t just have you outside protesting, does he? I think he and his friends might be pretty good at coding too, hmm?”

His words cut through your righteous bravado. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

But internally you curse at your slight stammer, It was a tell. He knows you’re holding something back now. He knows he’s on the right track.

Hux smiles, genuinely this time. “See I think you _do_ though. I think when you reached out to me in the spring, your boyfriend attached a code so he could get into all kinds of things he shouldn’t be poking around into. Did you know that a lot of people would pay a good deal of money to get him to _stop_ poking around into certain things that are really none of his business at all?”

You say nothing. Faintly, you hear an engine start downstairs, then the sounds of a car backing up over the gravel outside. Someone was leaving. There are fewer of them here now. You silently beg for the faction downstairs to keep talking, so you can keep track of how many people are down there. You may be able to be outsmart and outrun Hux, but how many people could you evade if you made it down to the warehouse? 

“You know, I am truly very sorry we had to pull our offer from this summer, things were just so uncertain at the start of the pandemic. You’re clearly very bright and would have done very well at our firm. Actually--” Hux pauses dramatically, arching his head a bit. “Maybe you still could. If we can just resolve this little… _difficulty_ very quickly.”

Disgusted, you grind out through clenched teeth, “Why in the fuck would I help you?” 

“Well for starters, you never really struck me as the ‘kept woman’ type, Y/N. But I heard you quit your temp job recently so I assume that means this new boyfriend is taking care of your bills? That’s nice for now. But what _I’m_ saying is that you could have a steady job at our firm when you graduate. And-- _maybe--_ if you are _particularly_ helpful, I can see what we can do about that mountain of student loans, too? I could do that tonight, in fact. You can walk out of here debt-free and with a job lined up next year after the bar. In fact, it's probably the least I could do after such a rough evening.” He pauses there while your mind reels. 

_This is why people flip,_ you think to yourself. _How did you ever find yourself in this position? He was offering so much money… and you could just walk out of here tonight…_

“We’re very good to our own, you’ll find out.” Hux adds with a grin glancing down at your hands which are clenching the warm tea mug to your chest. “Hmm. You’ll probably need some Neosporin for your knuckles.”

“What do you _want_ , Hux?” you murmur. Every beat of your heart thundering through your chest. 

Hux had just made you a genuine offer. He wasn’t lying, you could feel it. For him to be offering all of this-- what could he possibly want in return? How much does he already know? It had to be bad. It had to be everything.

“Tell me his name to start. It's odd that he has no social media presence. Tell me where he stays. What he asks you to do. Tell me if you’ve met any of his friends…”

“You want me to snitch on my boyfriend and be loyal to you? The same night you grab me from the street? Just because you offered me tea? 

His patience finally thinning, Hux’s eyes bore into yours. “Look, I am trying to figure out how you got involved in this. I know you sent us the data mining code that breached our systems.” 

_Fuck_. Jumbled thoughts race over and through your mind: _Could you feed him misinformation? How much would be enough?_ _What if this is a test? What if it can't be corroborated? Would Anonymous really come for you after all? Could you really turn on your friends? On Ben? What if you have no choice? How could you get yourself out of this mess?_

Hux leans forward across the desk, pressing the index finger of each hand into a stiff pyramid. “Alternatively, I could go straight to the FBI with the information I have now. And let _them_ ask you the questions. They won’t have as compelling an offer for you as the one I am presenting, though.”

Panic flares. Despite your best efforts your breath starts to come in short and tight again. Everything from the last hour crashes into you again-- being stalked, grabbed, tossed, bound, gagged, threatened… 

Your hands begin to tremble. And after a shuddering breath you finally open your mouth to respond-- 

“ _She’s here?!_ ” A clear voice cuts through the chatter downstairs. The voice is sharp, loud and surprised. Male. The voice sounds vaguely familiar. You can’t hear the response. 

Hux continues, leaning even closer over the desk. “If you tell me, and help me trace down who has been hacking into us, I can help you.” 

Heavy quick footsteps on the stairs, but stopping midway. You turn sharply and look through the open door. 

“She wasn’t supposed to-- you weren’t supposed to…” the voice on the stairs was calling down the staircase to someone in the warehouse. The murmuring continues. Whoever is downstairs is arguing now, defending himself most likely. 

Hux stands up then, looking toward the door, making to close it and give you two privacy from the larger group, but just as Hux walks past you you hear the voice on the stairs say, “-- from the protests?! Fuck! They're going to come for her. You fucking idiots….” 

You _do_ know that voice. And when the realization crystallizes your stomach drops. That voice knows who you are. That voice knows exactly who’s coming. It’s Anakin. Your coding and software genius from Anonymous SFHQ. He’s here. He’s working for them. He’s… he’s… the mole. 

Anakin is the mole. He worked on all your Anonymous tech. He reprogrammed your phone. He set up your laptop. He knows everything about you. He knows everything about Ben. And he's _here_. 

Rage. Betrayal. And although your mind races, your senses sharpen. The pieces of the puzzle finally start to fit. The fog begins to drift away from your brain. Your breath steadies. Your focus is restored. 

Hux reaches the door and whisper-yells at the lot of them to keep it down. 

Anakin responds, “I’m getting my shit and getting out of here now. You should do the same. These idiots made a scene. They were only supposed to _talk_ to her! You told me they were only going to ask her some questions--!”

“Not now, Anakin--” Hux snaps before closing the door. 

Before Hux can turn back to face you bright headlights flash from outside the window. A car is pulling up fast, then skids through the gravel into a harsh sudden stop. A second flash of headlights-- another car just behind the first driving around to the rear of the building, the crunch of the gravel echoes through the open space downstairs. 

It could be anyone; but instinctively you know it's Ben. And Vikrul, and Cardo and Zorri. They’re here. They came for you. You don’t know how they found you, but you do know that this bullshit was officially _over_. NOW. 

  
  


“Oh, fuck me…” you hear Anakin whisper outside the closed door to himself. 

Any sense of panic inside of you vanishes. It is replaced with something cold, furious, focused and ready for action. You grip the heavy ceramic mug securely in your hand, leap out of your chair and crash it suddenly, violently against Hux’s ginger head.


End file.
